


When the Government Calls

by Peps4lyfe



Series: Adventures of a Temporary Avenger [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Renegotiated Sokovia Accords, Avengers Family, Gen, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Sokovia Accords, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peps4lyfe/pseuds/Peps4lyfe
Summary: When a rumor that the war criminal Steve Rogers is planning on breaking his team out of the Raft Prison surfaces, Thaddeus Ross calls on Tony Stark, Peter Parker and the Vision to apprehend Captain America.  As it turns out, Tony has plans of his own.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Series: Adventures of a Temporary Avenger [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090454
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	1. Peter Parker’s Surprise Mission

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of a collection of short stories recounting Peter's adventures with various members of the Avengers team.
> 
> The first installment is designed to bring the Avengers back together following the clash of the Avengers at the German airport.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Chapter One: Peter Parker’s Surprise Mission

Peter Parker wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Tony Stark angrier. Granted, they’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but Peter’s obsession and love for the Iron-Man had spanned since the superhero’s inception in 2008, so he knew all that Tony had experienced, from the press conferences with noisy reporters and angry bystanders to battling whatever robots Hammer had created in 2011. Even after muddling through the mess that came from Natasha Romanoff dumping SHIELD’s secrets on the internet, and in turn airing out all of the Avengers’ dirty laundry for the world to see, and even through the shaky explanation of why Ultron was created in the first, Tony had managed to keep a calm façade.

Not now, though.

Peter was sitting in the kitchen of the Avengers’ Compound, the new one upstate with the sloping lawns, the shining Avengers’ symbol that glowed under the sunlight, and with nothing but empty rooms that was once inhabited by Tony’s former teammates. Beside him was Vision, wearing what looked like an outfit straight from an _Abercrombie and Fitch_ ad, this beautiful gem glowing in the center of his bright red and green head. Pacing in front of the counters was Tony, the faintest hints of bruises and cuts, the only remaining physical indicator of what happened in Siberia, etched across his face, which was twisted into a look of pure anger. Mr. Stark or the android hadn’t given Peter any explanation as to why he had been picked up after school by Happy Hogan and driven up to the compound. 

Tony was clutching on his cell phone, brows furrowed. “Look, I am well aware of Rogers’ intentions but—” Whoever was on the other end of the cell phone shouted something back. “I am well aware of that… No, it frankly doesn’t matter! They’re former Avengers. They’re not — okay, yes, I realize what I signed.”

If Tony hadn’t been so angry and Vision, who was basically an advanced version of the human race and whose powers the world had yet to fully comprehend, wasn’t acting so odd, sitting in the compound with the Avengers would have been one of the coolest experiences of Peter’s short fourteen-year life. Cooler than when he got bit by a radioactive spider last year. Cooler than when Tony Stark appeared in his bedroom out of nowhere earlier this year to talk about Peter’s alter-ego, Spider-Man. And cooler than when Peter fought off Captain America and nearly won.

 _Nearly_.

To be honest, Peter wasn’t 100% sure what he was even doing at the Avengers’ Compound. After what happened in Germany and after being nearly killed by that massive guy— _Ant-Man,_ Peter thought his name was—any contact Tony had had with Peter had been pretty minimal. But who could blame Tony? Peter was just a fourteen-year-old kid who happened to have some superhuman powers. Tony Stark was a real Avenger, dealing with real-world, Avenger-level problems. Rather than relying on Mr. Stark for any updates on what was happening after the fight at the airport, Peter had to rely on the news for updates on what felt like a catastrophic schism between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. The only big threat the news was talking about re cently was how Captain America and the other guy, _the Winter Soldier,_ had escaped from Siberia, nearly killing Tony Stark in the process. If hadn’t been for T’Challa, a _literal_ king and quite possibly one of the coolest people Peter had ever meant (mind you, Peter Parker had meant all the Avengers, too), tipping off the CIA, Tony Stark would probably be dead by now. Nearly every news source was hypothesizing what had happened in the Siberian Hydra Facility and why Captain America and Iron-Man couldn’t set aside their differences, especially since Bucky Barnes had been exonerated from the UN bombing. The Avengers, or what’s left of them, haven’t made any public statements. Colonel Rhodes, who had been paralyzed from the waist down, was rumored to be spending his time in South Korea to work with Helen Cho; Cho was a doctor trying trying to find ways to help Rhodes regain his mobility. Vision was lying low after the airport battle, especially since word got out that he was the one who shot down Rhodes. And Tony hadn’t left the Compound since coming back from Siberia a couple days ago. The rest were all war criminals.

Peter didn’t know a whole lot about how deep-rooted the resentment and tension between the two leaders of the Avengers had gone, but considering Siberia ended with such violence, it must have been bad. There was a lot the news didn’t understand, and that Peter, even having worked first-hand with Tony stark, didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t allowed to fully know the extent of the Winter Soldier’s crimes, nor was Peter allowed to fully understand what had started all the fighting in the first place. 

All Peter knew about was that the conflict had something to do with the Sokovia Accords. 

The news caught wind of the Accords’ documents the moment Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross had gone to the Avengers’ Compound. _New hope. Oversight. Protection against collateral damage that the Avengers so frequently forgot._ These documents were plastered over every TV station and it was all Peter’s school, Midtown School of Science and Technology, could talk about. Peter had his opinions for sure; having lived in New York his whole life, he saw first-hand the kind of damage the Battle of New York did. A lot of people were killed. A lot of livelihoods were destroyed. And while the citizens of New York were left to pick up the pieces of a broken city, all the Avengers had to say about it was a speech full of empty promises of rebuilding a better city and a transfer of money from the Stark Relief Foundation to aid with the rebuilding of Manhattan. Much of the world was thankful and grateful for the Avengers, including Peter since they literally stopped an alien invasion from happening, but when the joy of merely surviving that attack wore down, all that was left was anger. Anger that the Avengers and SHIELD weren’t doing more. 

This resentment only got worse with the Sokovia. Ultron, this AI created by Tony Stark himself, had gone bad, infecting the internet and using the skills Ultron learned to create an army of robots bred to ‘cleanse the world.’ Fighting by Ultron’s side were Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Stories of why the twins chose sides with Ultron varied. Tony Stark sold weapons that blew up Sokovia. Or they were lied to by Hydra about the intentions of the experiments that gave them their powers. Or they just hated the Avengers because it felt like the representation of everything that Sokovia didn’t have or had been stripped of by outside governments or countries: protection, security, wealth, power. Maybe a mix of all three. The news didn’t seem to care much about Pietro Maximoff, especially since he had died in Sokovia after trying to protect an Avenger, Clint Barton, but Wanda Maximoff had been picked apart inside and out. What authority did the Avengers think they have to pardon Wanda Maximoff from the crimes she had committed while fighting with Ultron? Who was going to be held responsible for the deaths that had happened in Johannesburg? The violence of Sokovia coupled with the death of doctors, patients and volunteers in Lagos was the last straw.

Outcries against the Avengers followed, and the US government, recognizing the political mess that followed what happened in Lagos, created the Sokovia Accords. You know the rest of the story. 

“Who is he on the phone with?” Peter asked, leaning to whisper into Vision’s ear. While in Germany, Happy Hogan was the only person Peter had really met. The only interaction Peter had with Tony Stark’s side was right before they got to the airport. It only lasted a couple seconds, with Natasha Romanoff giving Tony Stark some snide comment about recruiting someone as young as Peter (though, Peter wasn’t 100% sure _how_ she knew his age) and few looks of doubt from Tony’s friend, Rhodes. This was the first time Vision and Peter were really speaking to each other. “And why is he so angry?” Peter continued.

Vision leaned closer to Peter. “Tony’s on the phone with Secretary Ross,” Vision said in a lower whisper. “I believe something is happening on the Raft Prison.”

“The what?” Peter asked. “Is it another Avenger’s mission?”

Vision shook his head. “The Raft Prison is a remote supermax prison located in the Atlantic Ocean. I have not been allowed to visit the Raft, yet. It was originally built in late 2011 following Dr. Banner’s exposure to gamma radiation and the fight between the Hulk and the Abomination devastated Harlem.” 

Peter only vaguely remembered the fight to which Vision was referring. SHIELD and the World Security Council, both of which were rapidly gaining power in law enforcement at the time, managed to cover up most of what the Hulk did in Harlem, but clips surfaced all over YouTube and the news. Peter was only seven at the time and this before the world was starting to accept super soldiers and literal Gods, like Thor and Loki; Captain America was still considered an urban legend at that point. When the existence of the Hulk, a practically invincible humanoid, had leaked to the media, the world was in a frenzy. It only makes sense the government had created something that could contain someone as strong as the Hulk if a situation called for. The real question that remained, however, was whether the government built the Raft for the Abomination or for Dr. Banner. If the government was using this supermax prison and was calling Tony Stark about business there, they had to be harboring a _huge_ threat.

“Any idea what’s happening there?” Peter asked.

“I believe it’s where the former Avengers are being kept,” Vision said.

“So, that’s where Secretary Ross sent the Avengers last year?” Peter muttered, but mostly to himself.

After being nearly killed by Ant-Man at the airport, everything that followed was fuzzy, at best. Peter remembered Tony Stark immediately coming to Peter’s aid, yanking the mask off and checking for any severe injuries, and the feeling of shame when every muscle in Peter’s body was screaming for rest, rendering Peter incapable of continuing the fight. And then, Peter remembered the sound of cries as Colonel Rhodes had fell from the sky. What felt like an entire cavalry of CIA men, led by Everett Ross and Secretary Thaddeus Ross came to arrest the remaining members of Steve Rogers’ team, armed with semiautomatics, tasers and shields. Sam Wilson and Scott Lang were already unconscious; behind them, Clint Barton, only a human, had been subdued quickly, so any attention or violence the CIA had been eager for was taken out on Wanda Maximoff. The story Peter heard was that she attacked first, though Peter was so out of it, he had no idea if that was true. Either way, so many CIA agents tased her that she nearly fell unconscious from the pain. Peter had tried to protest, stand up for them. _They’re Avengers._ But Vision held him back… better for Peter’s safety not to get involved. The last time Peter saw the remaining Team Cap members was when all four of them were being stuffed into the back of a helicopter, all trussed up in manacles and being thrown around like animals. New sources speculated and Peter did too about where they were being kept. Peter had no idea it would be a place like the Raft…

“Yes,” Vision whispered. Was that guilt Peter saw in Vision’s eyes?

“Do you know what’s happening to them there?”

Vision shook his head. “Secretary Ross has made it clear that what happens to the former Avengers is no longer of our concern.” He spoke with such stoicism that at first, he seemed indifferent, but Peter knew better. Peter couldn’t imagine what it must be for Vision to try to sort through emotions that he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Love. Guilt. Pain. Loss. 

“Rumors are rumors!” Tony spat into the receiver; Peter’s attention fell back to Mr. Stark. “You really expect me to fly out there right now just because you have a _hunch?”_ Tony paused, but whatever was being said on the other side of the phone call was clearly making Tony angrier and angrier because the man was practically shaking as he paced back and forth. “You… _really?_ And what if I just so happen to be in the shower when the doorbell rings? No — that’s — sorry, I think we’re losing connection. I can’t quite hear what you’re—” Tony slammed the phone shut, fuming.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked when neither Vision nor Tony said anything. “Is everything alright?”

Tony looked at Peter, darkly. “Looks like the three of us have our first Accords mission.” The man’s voice was wrecking with sarcasm, but under the veil of bitterness, Peter could detect fear.

“Including Mr. Parker?” Vision gestured toward Peter, who was anxiously bouncing his foot up and down.

Tony nodded. “Including the kid.” Tony threw his phone onto one of the chairs; it bounced and scattered onto the ground. “ _Damn it!”_

Peter wasn’t sure how to feel right now. After Germany when Tony dropped Peter off, he told Peter this would a one-time thing. Tony kept the suit too, but that was only because Tony saw kinks in how the suit worked after the fight at the airport and he wanted to modify the tech for Peter (this, to Peter, implied that he would get the suit back and that was enough excitement to keep Peter up pretty much the whole night after getting back). While he was hoping to hear back from Tony, he never thought it would be for another mission. Not just any mission—a Sokovia Accords _Avengers_ mission. There was excitement churning in Peter’s chest. _Was_ he an Avenger? 

“And there’s no room for discussion about the terms of the mission?” Vision inquired.

“If there were, I’d be having those discussions right now,” Tony muttered. “They’re sending Agent Carter over to give us a briefing. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” The name sounded familiar, but Peter couldn’t pinpoint where he remembered her from. “Parker, you should probably change into your suit. Preserve the secret identity. The suit is upstairs in a guest bedroom that you can use while you stay here. Happy’ll show you the way.”

“Do you have any idea what the mission entails?” Vision asked.

“They didn’t tell us too much of the details, but I was able to annoy some information out of Thaddeus Ross.” Tony leaned against the kitchen counter. He ran his hands through his hair, eyes weary with pain. “Apparently, there’s whispers of Steve Rogers trying to break the rest of his team out of the Raft. And Ross expects us to try and stop him. With whatever means necessary.”

* * *

Agent Carter arrived promptly. FRIDAY, Tony’s fiery AI who took for JARVIS when he was converted into the Vision, momentarily disabled the security precautions that kept the Compound locked down, and in walked a rather pretty woman, golden honey blonde hair flowing down her back. She had a pert nose, thin lips and brown eyes that pierced into Tony’s as she walked into the conference room. “Tony Stark, nice to see you again,” the woman said. She spoke curtly, no-nonsense. Peter, already changed into his Spider-Man suit and identity firmly hidden behind the mask, immediately dialed in on the holster strapped to her thigh, the gun shining in the light of the conference room.

“Wish I could say the same,” Tony said. The two shook hands.

She turned to the android, giving him a curt head nod. “Vision.”

Vision greeted with her the same pleasantries. “Agent Carter.” 

“Call me Sharon,” the woman said.

The second Peter heard her full name, memories of Germany came flooding back to Peter. _Sharon!_ He _had_ met her before. Only briefly. She worked for the CIA team that was assigned to hunting Barnes and Captain America and sat in on the meeting between Thaddeus Ross and Iron Man’s team. From what Peter remembered, she did everything in her power to change the shoot-on-sight call for Bucky Barnes’ and the order from Thaddeus Ross that if any other Avengers try and come in the CIA’s way, the CIA has full permission to kill them as well. It was hard to tell where her allegiance had been, especially since she was doing everything in her power to keep Steve safe, yet she was still part of the team that came to apprehend the remaining faction of Steve Rogers’ team. 

“You must be Spider-Man. Good to see you again,” she said, extending her hand forward. Peter took it quickly. She appraised him for a moment before letting his hand go. “New suit?”

“Same one, just made a few modifications,” Tony said, absent-mindedly before Peter could say anything, which was probably for the best considering his voice would likely be a dead giveaway that Peter had just barely just become a teenager. In fact, he never felt more out of place sitting in a room full of adults talking about a legitimate Sokovia Accords mission. “So, where’s the Boss Man? Or is Secretary Ross not going to make it?” Tony asked.

“We’ll meet him at the Raft,” Sharon said. “For now, you just have me.”

“Mission not even important enough for him to give us an in-person visit?” Tony muttered.

Sharon frowned. “Would you rather have me or him? Because, trust me, I’ll be a lot friendlier.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Tony mumbled. He settled into one of the plush leather chairs, leaning so far back it looked as though the chair was going to completely topple over and throwing his feet onto the table. “So, what are we in for, Carter?”

“Thaddeus Ross has connections to some of the underground criminal networks from across the world,” Sharon began.

She didn’t make it far through her spiel before Tony interrupted her. “And Captain America is part of the ‘underground criminal network?’ Say, how many snitches did Thaddeus Ross threaten to send to the Raft Prison until he found something on Rogers?”

Sharon ignored him. “Rumor has it that Steve Rogers discovered the location of the Raft Prison and is planning on breaking the rest of his team out sometime tonight or tomorrow. Thaddeus Ross sees this as a perfect opportunity to—in his words, _not mine_ —‘use the remaining faction of the Avengers locked in the Raft as bait to lure Rogers to be imprisoned.’”

“Fitting,” Tony muttered. “How can you even be sure that this rumor is legitimate? 

“We don’t,” she admitted. “But Secretary Ross doesn’t want to squash any opportunity of apprehending Captain Rogers. We aren’t sure if he’ll have accomplices—there’s a rumor that he found Natasha Romanoff and they’re on the run together—nor do we have any idea what weapons he has at his disposable.”

“He doesn’t have the shield,” Tony mumbled. Peter already knew that—the very symbolic shedding of Captain America’s shield and what that meant for world security was one of the central topics of discussion in the news coverage following the fight in Siberia. “But if he’s with Natasha Romanoff, well—she has access to plenty of ‘underground criminal networks’, so they’ll be able to get their hands on some form of weapons. Maybe not lethal weapons… but they’re not going to come in empty-handed.”

“That’s what we’re anticipating, but again, Ross isn’t taking chances on Steve Rogers not wanting to use bullets on CIA agents _or_ his former teammates,” Sharon said. She seemed as though she was waiting for another sarcastic comment from Tony, but when that didn’t come, she pulled her laptop out and typed something inside. Blueprints were projected in front of Peter, Tony and Vision. It laid out few cells that were lined in a semi-circle, each labeled _Cells A, B, C_ and _D,_ respectively. “This is Wing 3, where the four Avengers are being kept and where Thaddeus Ross will be putting you. He’s already upping security at every entrance. Thaddeus Ross doesn’t believe that his men or the remaining security precautions of the Raft will be enough to keep Rogers at bay so the three of you will be the Raft’s last line of defense. You’ll stay in Wing 3 while we wait for Captain Rogers.”

“How do you access Wing 3?” Tony asked. 

“If Steve manages to get to the door without being shot by one of the guards,” Sharon said, “there’s a three-step security process to get inside. A retinal scan, fingerprint scans and a fifteen-digit passcode.”

“Who has access to get into the room?” Vision asked. “If all the guards have access to that wing of the Raft, Captain Rogers will likely be able to penetrate those security forces.”

“When the Raft was built, Secretary Ross—or at the time, it was Secretary Pierce—anticipated that. The only people with access to that wing is Secretary Ross and me,” Sharon said.

 _“You?”_ Tony scoffed. “Why would a measly CIA agent need access to that prison?”

“Originally, Everett Ross was supposed to have access to the prison so that he could conduct any business with the Avengers when Secretary Ross wouldn’t be able to,” Sharon explained. “Everett Ross was sent to South Korea for a classified anti-terrorism mission last night. Secretary Ross is afraid that if Everett Ross is to be captured during this mission that the security of the Raft would be compromised, so Everett Ross’s clearance was wiped and I, being point on this operation, was given access to it.”

“Convenient,” Tony muttered. “Does Secretary Ross think that you would betray his trust?”

Sharon shook her head. “Haven’t given him a reason to.”

“Really?” Tony said, getting to his feet so that he was eye-level with Sharon. “Because a little birdie told me that the only reason Steve Rogers was able to find Barnes’ in Bucharest was due to a CIA leak. Not to mention someone in the CIA stole Cap’s shield and Wilson’s wings and brought it to them in Germany. Rogers had a thing for your aunt—which in turn, means that he likely trusts you and seeks you out as a confidante. If I were Secretary Ross, I would be a little suspicious of you.”

Sharon shrugged. “Rumor has it Natasha Romanoff was the one who snuck that gear off to them.”

“And I’m sure you’re doing everything in your power to make that rumor believable,” Tony said. “After all, once a double agent, _always_ a double agent?”

“Are you accusing me of something?” Sharon asked.

“Not at all,” Tony said. “I’m just debating between whether Ross is using you to get to Rogers or if _you_ are using your relationship with Rogers to earn the Captain’s trust. Any thoughts?”

Tony was completely unwavering, but the same could be said with Sharon. She doubled down. “I may work for the CIA, but I was Margaret Carter’s niece. I grew up hearing stories of how courageous, righteous, and loyal Steve Rogers is. Even when Alexander Pierce and Hydra was feeding the world lies that Captain Rogers was compromised and selling SHIELD secrets, I believed in Steve. I have always and _will_ always fight for him. For what he stands for. And against the individuals seeking to disavow him.” She spoke evenly, eye contact never breaking Tony’s; at the very least, she convinced Peter that she could be trusted. “Now, I’m sure you already know this, but trying to find ways to exonerate Steve and the remaining Avengers is pretty damn difficult. Frankly, it’s easier doing it when the government doesn’t think you’re a traitor. Can you agree on that?”

“So, you’re playing for both teams?” Tony added with a smirk. “You’re still loyal to Steve, but have no problem trying to arrest him or his friends?”

Sharon scowled. “I can advocate for him in CIA meetings with Secretary Ross and Everett Ross. They trust me.”

Tony looked like he was going to say something, but Vision was the first to stop him. “I believe we’re straying from the primary objective of this briefing,” Vision said, calmly. “Agent Carter, please forgive Tony’s crassness. His sarcasm may be frustrating, but it comes from a place of genuine concern for Captain Rogers and the remaining Avengers, _and_ for the integrity of the Accords. What other security precautions does the Raft Prison have in place?” It was difficult getting a read on how Vision was processing the information. Regardless of being android, those were still _his friends_ and _former teammates_ locked in whatever this Raft Prison was.

“Classified,” Sharon muttered.

That earned a loud laugh from Tony, but it was nothing more than an expression of how morose he was feeling. “ _Just_ when I thought we were getting somewhere. _This_ is what I mean by playing both sides.”

“I’ll get _fired_ for telling you, not to mention I don’t even know all of the security precautions that are in place,” Sharon said. “The only person that knows the full-extent of how heavily protected the Raft is happens to be the one person invested on hunting down Captain Rogers.”

“And Thaddeus Ross would never divulge such sensitive information to anyone else?” Vision asked.

“Of course not,” Sharon said. 

Vision spoke again. “What Accords’ rules will be in play for this mission?”

“Considering that the only people at the Raft who could be harmed would be CIA agents, you three or Steve Rogers, there are _very little_ Accords’ rules that apply to the situation, with the exception of containing the fight as to prevent property damage to the Raft Prison _and_ to follow the orders of Thaddeus Ross at all times.” Sharon said with a resounded sigh. “Secretary Ross would like to impress upon you that, while the public will learn that Captain Rogers was apprehended—if that is to be the outcome of this mission—the details of the mission are classified. There can be no discussion outside of this conference room about the details of the Raft Prison and, especially, it’s location. They know nothing about this, and it needs to stay like that.”

She was very clearly speaking directly to Peter; it was becoming glaringly obvious that Sharon was more than hesitant about working with an individual who she knew close to nothing about. While Peter would follow whatever rules he needed to follow, he didn’t like the sound of what Sharon was saying. “Why?” Peter challenged, feeling a surge of courage that he never thought he had. “The location of the prison, I guess that makes sense. But the details? Or the conditions of it? Why keep those a secret? Because it kind of sounds like you’re hiding something.”

Sharon, Tony or Vision hardly looked fazed by the questioning. If anything, Tony looked immensely proud and Sharon even looked a little amused. “The last and only time I went to the Raft Prison was when Secretary Ross was giving me security clearance—I never saw the other Avengers. Believe me, Spider-Man, I ask my boss those questions every time the Raft is brought up in conversation.” 

Though that made Peter like Sharon a little more—at the very least, it was just another instance of Sharon proving to him that she wasn’t just blindly following what policies or actions Thaddeus Ross was putting in effect—it wasn’t exactly reassuring. Sharon had no idea the extent of how damaging and dangerous the Raft was. It wasn’t fear for Captain Rogers… let’s face it, any security precautions the Raft had shouldn’t be much of a challenge for him. It was fear for the other Avengers. They’ve made their fair share of mistakes and Peter believed in the importance of accountability, but imprisoning and possibly torturing them wasn’t right and _wasn’t_ how their actions can be repaired.

“You have any other information?” Tony asked.

“We need to leave this place in three hours,” Sharon said. “We can take the Quinjet, yes?”

A spike of excitement flooded through Peter at the prospective of being in one of the most incredible forms of flight transportation (besides the Iron-Man suit itself) with Tony Stark and the Vision, no less.

“If that’s it, I propose we end this little meeting. Spider-Man, why don’t you get a snack before the trip? Sokovia Accords missions don’t care much for mealtimes. Vision can show you to the pantry downstairs,” Tony said. “Agent Carter and I have more to discuss. Oh, and do you mind leaving your suit up in my workshop for the time being? There’s some modifications I want to make to it.”

Peter frowned. “More tinkering? Mr. Stark, the suit is incredible just the way it is. You don’t need to—”

“I just remembered a little kink in your suit,” Tony said.

“Mr. Stark—”

“Who’s the genius inventor, again?” Tony said. 

There was no trace of anger or disdain—humor, if anything. But he was firm in his words and that was the end of the conversation. So, Peter followed Vision out of the conference room, leaving behind Tony and Sharon Carter, who looked more than a little suspicious at the fact that Tony was asking to have a private conversation with her. Their first stop was to the kitchen for snacks. Next, it was straight to the third floor of the compound to the guest bedroom Happy showed him right before Sharon came over. It was a very tidy bedroom that looked more like a five-star hotel room with the king-sized bed, plasma screen TV and walk-in closet. Peter’s laymen clothes had been strewn at random across the cream-colored down comforter on the bed. He changed out of the Spider-Man suit and gave it to Vision who was to deliver the suit to Tony’s workshop. Though Sharon was in the conference room with Tony, Peter didn’t want to risk her accidentally walking out and seeing his face, so he stayed in his bedroom and kept himself busy by flicking through TV channels and wondering what Tony was planning on doing with the suit this time.

* * *

Peter wasn’t used to flying in planes, let alone flying in the Quinjet cutting through the violent wind and storms that was currently wrecking havoc outside. After Sharon and Tony’s private meeting, which lasted almost all the way up until the four of them needed to leave for the Raft Prison, they hurried to change into their Avengers suit before boarding the Quinjet. Peter had never been inside this particular mode of transportation, and his excitement, despite the magnitude of the situation, got the better of him. He watched in awe as Tony and Sharon took the pilot’s seat near the front, peering through the windows to see the incredible view of the trees and skylines outside. Evidently, Peter was the only person excited because Vision hurriedly directed Peter toward one of the cushy seats. Two hours later, and all that excitement was redirected to keeping his fear in check due to the horrible turbulence— _they aren’t going to crash planes experience turbulence all the time they are going to be alright—_

“Are we almost there?” Peter managed as the Quinjet hit a rather angry jolt of wind that sent Peter forward, grabbing at the seat belt straps, which was the only thing that kept him from being thrown completely out of his seat.

“Just about,” Sharon said, quietly, eyes transfixed on the sight in front of her. Sure enough, just a few moments later, Sharon pointed forward. “Hover right here.” 

And Tony did. The Quinjet came to a lurching halt, the sudden gust of wind and swirl of rain throbbing against the exterior making the stop even more jerky. Peter stumbled out of his seat and made his way to the pilot seat. Bearing all his weight on a handlebar attached to the side of the co-pilot chair to keep himself from falling, Peter looked outside. At first, Peter wasn’t sure _what_ he was looking at. He could see the Atlantic Ocean, which was nothing but a black mass below stretching for miles in every direction. Beneath, the waves swirled and whipped around violently. Then, the ocean began to rumble and swirl circularly, as though this was the beginning of a hurricane forming. Something gray was protruding from underneath the ocean—and it was getting bigger; seconds later, Peter began to notice what looked like bright white balls forming a circle. They weren’t bright white balls— _they were lightbulbs_. The water dispersed in a fray of nasty swirls as what looked like a massive circular cement building erupted from _underneath_ the water. 

_This place had to be hell…_ or at least the closest thing that Peter had seen to Hell in his short fourteen years of life. Not hell, Peter supposed. _The Raft Prison._ There were no visible windows, but what looked like square openings— _vents,_ perhaps—were pouring buckets full of water out. Moments following, the rooftop itself began to split revealing a square opening through which Tony could land the Quinjet. He did so expertly, easing the Quinjet comfortably into the landing zone; a loud echoing noise from overhead indicated to Peter that whatever part of the roof had split in order to let the Quinjet land had immediately shut again. They landed in what looked like a massive warehouse fit with boxes of cargo wrapped in plastic and secured down with straps and bright blinking red lights that shut off once the Quinjet landed. Guards dressed in black, semiautomatic strapped around their backs and protective gear covering their faces were waiting outside the landing zone. Leading the group of them was Thaddeus Ross. He looked as stern as Peter remembered him, glowering at Tony Stark.

“You alright?” Tony asked before Peter and him had left the Quinjet. 

Peter nodded. _No._ He didn’t feel alright, that’s for sure, especially not with the faceless guards glaring at the two of them. “Yeah, I’m good.” Tony didn’t say anything in response. Rather, he put his arm on Peter’s shoulder and hurried him out of the Quinjet.

“Secretary Ross,” Sharon said, greeting her boss with a polite nod.

He ignored her, turning directly Tony. The mask of the Iron-Man suit retracted itself inwards, revealing Tony’s face. “Our intelligence suggests Rogers will be here in two hours with an accomplice.” He led the way, sweeping forward past the guards and going straight toward what looked like a heavy cement door.

“Barnes?” Vision asked.

Ross shook his head. “Romanoff. We have two cells prepped for them.”

“That’s only if we manage to take them down,” Tony muttered.

“And if we don’t apprehend Rogers and Romanoff, I’m sure you would be an excellent substitute for one of these cells,” Ross muttered. He turned to look at Spider-Man. “Perhaps, he would be an adequate substitute, too.” That threat got the effect Ross has been intended. That was enough to make Peter’s blood go cold—and enough to garner a pretty nasty glare from Tony.

One of the guards escorting the group of them unlocked the door in front of them. The new room they walked into was canvassed with holographs projecting different angles of the landing zone and hallways. There was no time to look at the other images of the holographs, because they were being hurried forward by Ross to another cement door, armed guards following their tail to keep Peter and the others moving. “They’re in here,” the Thaddeus Ross snapped, gesturing to a massive concrete door. After Ross completed the fingerprint and retinal scanner and typed in his password, there was a hissing sound and the door to the cell swung open automatically. “Carter and I will be out here. Get yourselves comfortable. You may be waiting there for a while.” With that, Secretary Ross and Agent Carter hurried out of the cell.

Peter stopped, heart clenching as he took in the sight of the former Avengers. They were dressed in blue jumpsuits and individually locked in their own cells, visible only through the glass wall keeping them inside. Clint was pacing nervously; Sam was unfolding and refolding the blanket on the pathetic excuse for a cot; and Scott was leaning against a wall, talking (or perhaps singing?) to himself. They looked exhausted, unshaven and scraggly. Bags hung below their eyes that were so dark purple it looked as though they hadn’t gotten a good nights’ sleep for over a month… even though they’ve only be here for maybe a week? Not mention, they seemed to have lost weight. The jumpsuits they were wearing hung loosely off their shoulders, indicating to Peter that the guards here clearly weren’t feeding them nearly enough. 

But nothing compared to how Wanda Maximoff was being treated. Her arms were uncomfortably stretched across her chest, locked in place by a straitjacket. Her feet were bound together by manacles and chained down to a massive hook in the ground. And to top it all off, Peter immediately saw what looked like a metal collar with a red blinking bulb in the center. What could she have done to warrant this treatment—or rather, why did Thaddeus Ross think this was the necessary precaution to take?

As though she heard Peter thinking about her (which could have been possible—wasn’t mind reading one of her powers?), she looked up at him. She was pale and just as withered and battered as the others. The only difference was her eyes. Wanda stared up at Peter with her pretty and mesmerizing blue-ish green eyes—or rather looked _through_ Peter. She was staring, but it was obvious that Wanda wasn’t completely _there_ right now. Her face was slack, eyes a million miles away. Vision stopped by her cell first, eyes aghast as he took in the broken sight of Wanda Maximoff. Rumor had it that Vision and Wanda had a thing. Peter wouldn’t consider himself a good enough friend with the android to ask such a personal question but judging by the way that Vision stared down at Wanda, a hint of anger tainting his shocked expression, there had to be _something_ going between them.

“I wouldn’t try talking to her.” It was Clint Barton. He had stopped pacing and was leaning against the glass, staring down at Vision. His voice reeked of disdain. “See that thing around her neck? It’s not a pretty new necklace she got while on the run. Shock collar. It’s motion-sensored,” Clint said. “She so much as breathes too deeply and she gets a nice little _zap_ to keep her in place.”

“Shock collar,” Vision repeated. “Where is Secretary Ross? I do not believe that the Sokovia Accords allows for the treatment.”

“There’s _a lot_ of things that the Accords’ allow that you likely aren’t aware of it,” Sam said, emerging from the shadows of his cell to glare at Tony, Vision and Spider-Man. He had a nasty bruise on his forehead. “Ross spouted some crap about how the Accords’ gives it’s enforcers every right to beat down and abuse enemies or potential world threats if it meant minimizing collateral damage or reducing the risk a weapon of mass destruction poses. That’s what she is, you know? A _weapon of mass destruction!_ ”

“That what you wanted, _Stark?!”_ Clint yelled. He banged against the glass.

Peter looked to Tony, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Wanda since the second they had gotten into the Raft. He turned slowly to face Sam, Clint and even Scott. “You know this isn’t what I wanted. I wanted accountability. I wanted safeguards. I wanted to make sure Johannesburg or Ultron didn’t happen again. Funding and law enforcement and government consent there to minimize destruction and reduce liability.”

“I’m all for that,” Sam said, “but Wanda was always going to end up here. _This_ was Ross’s way of minimizing destruction.”

“I would have protected her had she not left the compound,” Tony said. “Now—”

“Now your hands are tied. Now we’re war criminals,” Clint muttered. “I get it.”

“Why are you here, Stark?” Sam asked. “This surely isn’t a great sight-seeing place.” Sam gestured toward Peter, who was glued to where he stood, so shocked and sickened by what he was seeing, and to Vision, who looked completely immobile as he kneeled before Wanda’s cell. Tony didn’t respond right away, but that silence seemed to be enough of a clue for Sam. “Steve is coming here, isn’t he?” 

Tony didn’t answer.

“You’re going to use us as bait to help Ross arrest _Captain America_ , aren’t you?” Scott added in a voice of shock and disdain. 

“We’re under orders of the Sokovia Accords,” Vision finally said, getting up from his knees and turning to face the other Avengers for what may have been the first time tonight. “Believe me, Mr. Lang, this is not our choice.”

“You had a choice,” Sam snapped. “ _This”_ —Wilson gestured toward the other imprisoned Avengers—“is the choice you made. Steve was always worried that, while under the Accords, the Avengers would be sent somewhere we didn’t want to go. This is just the first mission. If you and Steve had just listened to each other…”

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people thinking that right now,” Tony muttered. “We might as well hash out all our grievances now, Wilson. We’re going to be here for a while.”


	2. Truth Be Told

Chapter Two: Truth Be Told

Sam, Clint and even Scott Lang took Tony up on that promise. As it turns out being locked up in a maximum prison cell with nothing to do other than think provided enough time for them to come up with exactly what they wanted to say. Everything from “did you really think Captain America, after finding out SHIELD was actually Hydra, would trust another government agency?” to “the Accords is great and everything, but don’t you think the people of these countries had a right to elect the individuals signing the documents” and all the way to “what happened to a fair trial before prosecution” was thrown at Tony. To be fair to Sam and Clint, these were all understandable points—especially when Clint tacked on “didn’t the government try to nuke all of New York and now you want to trust them with the Accords” to his last point.

As Peter sat there, taking in all the grievances that Sam and Clint had toward the Accords (and silently asking himself why these ideas weren’t mentioned when Ross _first_ introduced the document rather than doing it after the whole German airport fight), Peter noticed that Tony was being rather quiet, too. Same with Vision. Odd, considering how gung-ho they both were for the Accords’. Was it seeing the four exiled Avengers locked up in cages like they were animals that was changing their minds? Or was the fact that the Accords’ were essentially forcing the Avengers to waste their time turning Captain America into a war criminal a turning point?

“Why did you even want to sign the Accords, Stark?” Sam mumbled after listening to Clint ramble about how the Accords’ wouldn’t change the amount of damage inflicted on countries during an Avengers conflict, anyway. “I mean, what appealed to you about a 200-page document signed by the government basically telling you what you can’t and can do?”

Tony paused. He was leaning against a doorframe, eyes a million miles away and looking at the ground. When Sam said his name, the older man looked up, as though awoken from a bad dream. “In 2008, I watched a man I trusted turn my weapons into a ‘terrorist giveaway gift.’ I saw the villages it destroyed. I saw how many people died because of what I created. And then the same with Ultron. Banner and I made a death machine robot and it decimated Sokovia. If someone had been there to tell me not to make those weapons, maybe I would have listened. Maybe all those people wouldn’t have died. Safeguards. Fundamental changes to our autonomy.”

“Sokovia… was my… _fault_ ,” came a quiet, shaky voice, followed by a whimper of agony. Peter, Tony, and Vision turned to see that Wanda had said something, her eyes glowing red as her body succumbed to the pain of the shock collar because she tried to speak. Her body gave out from under her and she slumped against the floor. Peter wanted to look away, but he didn’t let himself. _He_ was every bit to blame for the former Avengers being here. He helped put them here.

“Don’t… don’t try to talk, Wanda,” Clint whispered.

“We need to get her out of these,” Vision said, a look of renewed anger on his face. 

“Don’t try going through the glass window,” Clint said. “It’s charged with electric currents. Your ass will be zapped to hell before you make it through.”

“Then I’m going to Ross. _This_ was not part of the Accords.” Vision didn’t wait for any response from Tony, because in a matter of seconds, the android had already disappeared through the cell door, going through it as if it didn’t exist at all. 

Silence hung in the air for only a moment, before Tony whispered quietly, “Doesn’t matter what you showed me, Wanda. I didn’t need to create Ultron just because of a nightmare. And Bruce tried to tell me. If I had told Steve… If there had been safeguards in place—”

“Then you wouldn’t have listened to those, either,” Clint said.

When Tony didn’t say anything to that comment, Peter was surprised to see Sam come to his rescue. “But we also can’t ignore the 100-something countries that signed the Sokovia Accords, either. If they want to have a say in our autonomy or some level of consent to our fighting, it isn’t fair to those governing bodies to blow them off. We played this game wrong, Tony. The Accords, in theory, are a great idea. But you know damn well Steve wouldn’t sit by and watch a country get blown to hell by an enemy just because the Accords said he couldn’t be there. We might not go back the way that Steve and I do, but I know you wouldn’t let that happen, either. We need more autonomy than what the Accords was offering. And, surely, there needs to be a better, more _ethical_ consequence for those who violate the Accords than sending them to this hellhole.”

“A compromise…” Peter whispered. He tried to picture a world like that, one that had been able to fully heal from the Battle of New York and the Battle of Sokovia. A world were the Accords’ provided a safety net and extra precautions for citizens but allowed for autonomous direction of the Avengers. A world in which Steve’s deep mistrust of the government after the Hydra/SHIELD disaster could be eased and a world where Tony’s own inventiveness could be tamed through precaution and conversation. Could a place like that exist?

“So, the team mascot can talk?” Sam said, turning to Peter. For once, out of this whole conversation, it sounded like a joke. 

Even Tony laughed. “It’s getting him to shut up. That’s the trick.”

Peter smiled under the mask. While watching Sam, Tony and Clint laugh at Peter’s expense, Peter was left with one thought: maybe a world of compromise _could_ exist once again.

* * *

Somehow, in the thick of all the arguing, the conversation shifted to sharing old war stories between the three of them. Clint was right in the middle of trying to defend himself using arrows against an army of aliens, when Vision walked (floated?) back into the cell; following quickly behind was Sharon, looking awfully ashamed of herself. Judging by the expression on the android’s face, whatever conversation he had with Thaddeus Ross about trying to get the shock collar off Wanda must not have gone well. He resumed his position of standing in front of Wanda’s cell and whispering something repeatedly that sounded a lot like an apology. Whatever bonding moments the remaining team had been sharing evaporated, quickly. No more stories. No more discussion of the Accords. Not after Vision’s return reminded Tony Stark that he was there to keep the other Avengers locked up. 

_Silence._

The silence didn’t last long, though. When Peter was fully distracted in counting how many indentations he saw on the ceiling, he heard a loud _THUNK_ coming from outside the cell. Immediately, Peter straightened up. As did Tony, Sharon, and Vision, who all seemed to be lost in their own private conversation. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Sam said when there was another loud _BANG._ “Steve really is trying to break us out.” 

Sharon ignored Sam. “I just got word from Ross that Steve and Natasha have already broken our line of defense and are coming straight here. They’re not using any lethal weapons.”

“How righteous,” Tony muttered on his breath. “What about the CIA agents? What are they firing back with?”

“Mostly tasers,” Sharon said. “Ross might be a bastard, but he’s a bastard who knows what kind of bad press he’ll receive if he kills Captain America.”

“Nice to know he has priorities,” Tony muttered. “Hey kid, non-lethal take downs only. Capiche?” Peter nodded in agreement, though it wasn’t like Peter would ever use lethal takedowns. “Sharon, how are we looking? Everything in place?” _In place? Like extra security precautions?_ Peter thought to himself, feeling his eyebrows raise in confusion underneath the mask.

Evidently, Sharon knew what Tony was talking about. “Everything is looking good. We even have—”

No time to finish her thought. The cell door burst open, as if it wasn’t made of steel concrete. It clattered against the wall with a thundering _CLANG!_ And in walked Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. The two Avengers looked just as perfect as Peter’s action figures made them out to be. Romanoff didn’t have on the widow suit, opting for a sleek black jacket and pulling her fiery red hair back into a loose braid; in her hands were what looked like two electric batons. Steve Rogers was clad in his own leather jacket and jeans, armed with nothing but his fists. He looked good considering how banged up Tony was after the Siberia fight. Maybe it was the fact that Tony was outnumbered 2-to-1 or because Steve had the super serum flowing through his blood, but there was nothing more than a tiny cut on Steve’s cheek. For all Peter knew, that could have just been from all the CIA agents.

Steve and Natasha took in the appearance of the former Avengers imprisoned on the Raft. Their eyes settled on Wanda. “Tony, what the hell is this?” Natasha said. Compared to the last time Peter heard her speak, which was right before the fight at the German airport, she sounded _much_ angrier now and _much_ deadlier.

Tony and Steve were too busy staring at each other, as if this was the first time they had ever seen each other, to register that Natasha had asked a question. Sharon answered instead. “Raft Prison. Ross doesn’t trust what security precautions we have in place against Maximoff, so he thought a shock collar would keep her docile.”

“This was _not_ part of the Accords,” Natasha snarled.

“You should have read more carefully,” Sharon said. “Clause 4 of Article 14 of the Accords emphasize any individual who willingly violates the bylaws of this international treaty is subject to confinement in order to prevent further conflict.” 

_That was oddly specific,_ Peter thought to himself. He looked back to Tony, who still hadn’t broken his eye contact with Steve, as if they were communicating telepathically. Peter didn’t know a lot about the Accords, but he knew enough about Steve Rogers to have expected a stronger reaction than what was happening now. You would think that the former Captain America would be more appalled to see how the US government was treating the rest of his team. And yet, he didn’t even seem surprised. As if someone had tipped him off about what to expect. Something was happening, and it didn’t seem like Peter had been included in any explanation.

“Mr. Stark,” came Vision’s cool, stoic voice, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. “Additional CIA reinforcements are en route to the cells.”

Sure enough, Peter’s heightened hearing caught wind of the fifteen or more CIA agents that came bursting into the cell door. They circled behind Romanoff and Rogers, who were now completely and hilariously outnumbered and outgunned. “Captain Rogers! Natasha Romanoff!” bellowed one of the CIA agents, who was dressed in all black and brandishing a semi-automatic weapon. “You are both under arrest for violating the Sokovia Accords, for attempting a prison escape of war criminals and for aiding and abetting Hydra hitman James Buchanan Barnes. Hands where I can see them!” They didn’t move. “I said, _hands where I can see them, or we will open fire!”_ Peter’s heart rate felt like it had just tripled. The CIA wouldn’t dare to open fire on Natasha and Steve…

“You sure this is what you want?” Steve said. Considering that he was surrounded by a bunch of men with guns and was about to be arrested, he spoke calmly and quietly. In fact, Peter couldn’t tell if Steve was talking to the CIA agents or to Tony. 

Tony nodded, though the gesture was so subtle, it was practically imperceptible. “Hey kid. Remember what I said about non-lethal takedowns?” Tony muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Peter to hear.

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“Good. Because it’s about to get a little hairy,” Tony said.

And then all chaos broke loose.

Rather than shooting Captain America, Tony diverted his aim toward the nearest line of CIA agents. Instead of the normal repulsor rays, a string of metallic cords shot toward the nearest two CIA agents, latching itself onto their guns. Within seconds, the cords were lighting up, electricity pulsing through it. The agents dropped to the ground, convulsing in agony. In that same instance, Steve Rogers and Natasha flipped around, engaging with the closest set of agents themselves; Vision and Sharon leapt forward the join the fight. Even amid real combat, Peter couldn’t help but be enthralled with watching _Captain America and Black Widow_ fight. Watching the two of them fight—Steve swinging at one person behind Natasha, only for her to turn around to finish off the same person with a roundhouse kick—reminded Peter of a choregraphed dance.

In summary… it was _awesome._

“Are you going to do anything?” Tony shouted, grabbing hold of Peter and throwing him backwards just in time to avoid getting jabbed with a gun. 

Still not 100% sure what Tony’s plan was, the moment one of the agents tried to hit him, Peter’s instincts reacted fast. He webbed the gun up against the wall and kicked the agent away. “Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter exclaimed, leaping onto one of the cell walls to get a better vantage point as he webbed up another couple CIA agents— _how many of them were there?!_ “What exactly is going on?”

“We’ll explain later, kid,” Tony exclaimed. “Kind of in the middle of something!” 

Just as Tony finished his sentence, a CIA agent was about to strike him in the back with what looked like an electric baton. Peter lifted his arm, ready to web the agent up, but there was no need. Vision grabbed hold of the weapon and the gun splintered into pieces. Beside Vision, Sharon leg swiped an agent, who lost his footing and Natasha elbowed the same one in the jaw, rendering him unconscious. Steve’s fighting was unparalleled to whatever the CIA agents could throw at him. Every step, kick and uppercut Captain America threw effectively hit its mark. In a matter of minutes, what looked like more than a dozen CIA agents were lying uselessly on the ground.

No time to relax, though, because Ross was storming inside the room and, boy, did he look angry—angrier than when he found out that Steve and Bucky had gotten away at the German airport last year. His face was flushed red with anger and his normally slicked back hair looked like a tangled mess, as though he had just spent the last twenty minutes roughing it up. “What the hell is going on here?! Carter, Stark, what do you two think you’re doing?!”

“I’m sorry. Is this _not_ what you wanted us to do?” Tony said, feigning confusion.

“You really want to end up in one of these cells, don’t you?” Ross seethed. “Reinforcements are already on their way here and by the time I’m through with all of you, Stark, you’re going to wish you never got out of that terrorist cell.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “So, let me get this straight, your plan is to imprison all of us and torture us so badly that we wish we were locked up in a terrorist cell? What exactly do you intend to do? I’m merely curious. Need to start mentally preparing myself for it now.”

“You’ve got some balls coming in here, only to completely disregard the Accords, which _you_ helped ratify!” Ross snarled.

“What exactly is this _here_?” Steve asked.

Ross turned to glare at the former. “The Raft Prison. _Your new home._ We’ve got plenty more cells here just waiting for us to lock up every super freak out there defying orders. We built this place to withhold the Hulk and Thor if we ever felt it was necessary. A measly little soldier parading around with a frisbee can’t even get themselves out of here.” 

“Look around you,” Natasha said, gesticulating toward the unconscious CIA agents. “Clearly, Captain America can do plenty of damage.”

“We’ve kept her here without a problem,” Ross said, gesturing toward Wanda, who looked practically unconscious at this point. That look of disgust on Steve and Natasha’s face returned as they looked down upon the witch. “People around the world call her ‘enhanced’, like she’s a new breed of advanced human. The most powerful Avenger. No. She’s nothing but a Hydra mutated _freak_. And we’ve contained her just fine.”

“By illegally restraining Ms. Maximoff and using unnecessary amounts of electric currents in a shock collar to keep her subdued,” Vision said. His eyes narrowed, the little gem in the center of his forehead glowing. 

“It isn’t illegal,” Ross said, rather smugly, too. “Among many of the other articles in the Accords, think back to Article 11, Subsection D. It states that weapons of mass destruction are to be kept locked up and carefully watched to ensure the safety of civilians. We have no idea what kind of power Maximoff possesses, so we’re taking necessary precautions to ensure that she does not use her powers without the consent of the governing bodies of the Accords.”

“Under the right conditions, Wanda _is not_ a weapon of mass destruction. That subsection was meant to be about nuclear weapons or more Ultron bots, as you stated repeatedly in the Accords meeting,” Natasha interrupted. “And as for Avengers who don’t sign the Accords or who violate the Accords, you promised confinement to the Compound until all governing parties can determine how to move forward. Not confinement in this prison hellhole in the middle of the ocean. Are you even feeding them?”

“Just enough to survive,” Ross said.

Peter felt his blood boil, and he felt incredibly stupid. The Accords were idealistic in theory, but in practice, it looks like the Accords really had fallen into the wrong hands. Yes, accountability and limiting collateral damage was something that all Avengers could get behind, but if it meant treating the people who had saved the world countless times like they were animals just because of a difference of opinion, then maybe the Accords _should_ be abolished. 

“So, you’re starving them, too? Doesn’t that violate the Geneva Convention or something?” Tony muttered. “Does the Accords Committee even know about this? That you have four Avengers—well three, plus Ant-Man—locked up in this floating supermax prison, trussed up like animals and slowly being malnourished? Anything else you wish to tell us about? Did you beat them to try and find Rogers, too? Threaten their families? Tell me, Ross, what other ways have you abused the power the Accords gave you?”

“Whether those idiot governing officials like it or not,” Ross snarled, “this is _exactly_ what they agreed to. They agreed that the Avengers needed to be put in check and that anyone who didn’t sign the Accords would be getting an early retirement. _This_ is what early retirement looks. And this is what it will continue to look like for any future superhero freak or person in power who tries to disobey what the Accords committee commands. It doesn’t matter how much you don’t like what I’m doing to your friends, Stark, because _you_ agreed to this. _And_ you violated the Accords, which means you are getting one of these cells, too. And, boy, have I been waiting for you to end up in one of these places. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to wipe that smug look off your face. You and all your little friends here, too.”

No one dared to speak, especially Peter, who felt like he was on the verge of having a panic attack. To think that he had convinced himself a couple weeks ago that his trip to Germany to fight the other Avengers was a one-time thing and just over some silly dispute that was going to be resolved right after someone threw the first punch, not this huge political mess that would end with Peter possibly going to prison. For the rest of his life! He was barely even fifteen years old. 

And then, to top off how angry Ross was, Tony started laugh. Like _fits_ of laughter to point of where he was clenching his sides. Peter and the other four imprisoned Avengers looked at Tony as if he had completely lost his mind. “You really just gave us everything we needed,” Tony said. “Here I was, worried that you were just going to come in here and start shooting us—not that that wouldn’t have served the purpose just fine—but you actually stood in front of us, insulted every country who signed the Accords, and then admitted to abusing the power you had by torturing the Avengers.” What he was saying wasn’t exactly, but Tony was still grinning. In fact, he wasn’t the only person reacting like this: Sharon was trying hard to keep herself from smiling and even Steve had a slight grin on his face. If Peter didn’t think another wrong statement from Tony was going to end with everyone in this room getting thrown into their own cell, Peter would have started laughing from the sheer discomfort of the situation.

“You just signed your resignation,” Natasha said, smugly.

Whatever they were laughing at only made Ross angrier. “The only thing I’m signing are arrest warrants for the rest of you. _Including_ you, Carter.”

“No,” Tony said, stepping forward. “ _No._ I don’t think you’re going to be arresting us.”

“And why not?”

“Because little did you know, we’ve been recording everything for the past couple hours and live streaming it to the world… And I don’t think the world is happy about it,” Tony said. “You didn’t even try to argue with us when we said that you were starving the Avengers you illegally imprisoned here. I really thought I was pushing my luck with that part.” 

“ _Excuse me?”_ Ross seethed. 

“You are excused,” Tony said. “And in fact, if I were you, I’d be awfully concerned about your job status.”

“Are you threatening me?” Ross said through clenched teeth.

Natasha chuckled. She was holding a cell phone and started scrolling through something on her phone. “No, but everyone online is. Wow. Look at that! You’re even trending on twitter,” Natasha said with an amused expression. 

Tony pulled out his cell phone. “There’s more talking about the Raft Prison and you than there were people tweeting about SHIELD’s lies spilling out all over the internet _and_ when aliens invaded New York. Imagine that Mr. Secretary of State? You’re more famous—or rather more _infamous_ —than aliens.” The humor quickly disappeared from Tony’s voice as he continued. “Face it, Ross, your worst nightmare is coming alive. The world knows exactly what you’ve been doing here and with the rest of the Avengers. And now the UN is also aware of what happened when they put the Accords in your hands.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t sign the Accords,” Steve said.

“And why we,” Tony gestured toward himself, Sharon and Vision, “are revoking our signatures and asking for some revisions.”

“Should’ve stayed retired,” Natasha said, grinning. 

Ross looked like his head was on the verge of exploding, but the sound of a meek “ _boss_ ” interrupted him. Walking into the holding cell was one of the prison guards, protective gear and face mask still on, but clutching a phone fervently. “Secretary Ross,” the agent said again, thrusting the cell phone in Ross’s direction.

Ross, lips stretched into such a horribly thin line Peter thought it would disappear completely, rigidly turned to the guard. “ _What?!”_ he snarled.

The guard seemed so nervous, hands visibly trembling, but he stood his ground, stretching the cell phone out even further. “It’s President Ellis. He’s asking for you.” Evidently, getting a phone call from the President of the United States himself was enough to stop Ross’s tirade. Ross answered the phone in the hallway right outside the cells in private with the door closed shut so that no one could hear him.

With Ross out of the room, all that was left were the Avengers. “How have you been, Cap?” Tony asked in the between the silence. “Still look perfect always.”

Steve let out a forced laugh. “I’ve been better,” he murmured. “You really think this is going to work?”

Tony nodded. “People really aren’t happy with Ross right now.”

At that precise moment, Ross burst back into the room. Whatever happened on the other side of that phone call must have been serious because Ross’s face reminded Peter of the cherry airhead and he was visibly shaking. “President Ellis has requested for me to go to the White House and have a meeting with him.” He enunciated every word, as though the very fact that he had to utter this sentence was bringing him boat loads of pain.

“Cute. Little play date with the president,” Tony mocked. “What does this mean for us?” He gestured toward the Avengers.

Ross bit his lip so hard Peter thought it would draw blood. “President Ellis believes that it would be more appropriate for all of you to return to the Compound while he tries to decide what the US government’s next moves are. He will give you a call later, Stark.”

“We can _all_ return to the compound?” Sam clarified, drawing himself closer to the glass door separating him from freedom.

“I already had the guards unlock all your cell doors,” Ross mumbled. “You’re free to go.”

Ross stepped out of the cell without saying another word.

Peter’s mind was still racing in a million different directions— _did they really just trick the federal government into letting the Avengers go? Was that really Captain America standing in front of them?—_ so when Tony, Steve and Nat started to help get the rest of their team out of their cells, Peter just stood around, watching dumbly. Vision had already torn off the shock collar and manacles on Wanda, while Tony was yanking the straitjacket off her. The second she was free of her chains, her arms reached straight for Vision, who pulled her off the ground and into his arms. To Peter’s left, Steve was giving Sam a rejoiceful hug, and Natasha was making jokes with Clint—something about hoping they were still friends. 

“About damn time you showed up,” Sam said as he got out of his cell. “Did you stop for drive-thru?”

“You know how mean Nat gets when she isn’t fed,” Steve said. 

“Speaking of feeding, I’m starving,” Scott said.

“I’m sure we can stop for food sometime on the way home,” Tony offered.

“Yes. _Please,_ ” Clint said, putting his arm around Scott’s shoulder. 

“Wanda, are you okay?” Steve said, suddenly, grounding the Avengers back to the reality that they had just been rescued from a maximum prison. 

Eyes drifted to Wanda, who had her arm around Vision as the whole group moved toward the exit. Out of everyone here, she was the only person who looked like she needed legitimate medical attention: heavy bruising lined her neck where the shock collar had been, and she looked like she could barely walk. But, she nodded, nonetheless. “I’ll be okay,” she whispered. The eastern European accent that had been such a distinct characteristic of hers was faded slightly. She put her free arm onto Steve’s chest in reassurance. “Let’s just get out of here.” They all agreed.

Peter scrambled behind Tony, mind still reeling as he saw the _Avengers_ walking in front of him. Watching them all embrace each other as they stepped past the unconscious CIA agents to the Quinjet, Peter couldn’t help but think that in this moment, it really looked like the team was getting back together… Maybe it was too idealistic of Peter to think that. Getting free from the Raft was a small victory, yes, and they were all clearly ecstatic about that, but it didn’t repair the fractured relationship between the two factions. Even though Tony and Steve were having a conversation, _right in front of Peter no doubt,_ they weren’t making eye contact. Vision could hardly look at Wanda as he and Clint helped her onto the Quinjet. The Avengers were out of the Raft Prison and they were going back to the Compound. From the sound of the previous conversation, the Accords were being redrafted. But could that really repair whatever happened in Siberia or the mistrust that fighting each other must have caused? Not wanting dwell on the idea that Captain America and Tony Stark could never rectify their issues, Peter drew his attention back to following Scott onto the Quinjet.

Steve stopped just short of boarding the Quinjet and turned to Sharon. “Thank you,” he said, quietly, pulling her into a hug. “I owe you, again.”

“Damn right you do,” she said. 

“You need a ride home?” Tony offered.

She shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “Now that Ross is in a little bit of hot water, President Ellis needs someone to do clean up. You know, gather evidence for Ross’s crimes against humanity trial. It’s my new responsibility.”

“Oh! A promotion,” Tony exclaimed. “Thanks for your help, Carter. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“The honor was all mine. Aunt Peggy would have killed me if I didn’t help good ol’ Captain America out when he needed it,” Sharon said, winking at Steve.

Steve grinned. “She would be proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Sharon said, pulling Steve into another hug.

“Let’s get out of here, Rogers,” Tony finally said. The two men got back in the Quinjet and the door closed behind them.

Sam was already waiting in the pilot’s seat with Natasha sitting next to him. “Where to now, Cap?”

Steve smiled. “Let’s go home.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Sam said. He turned to Tony. “It’s okay that I fly this thing, right?”

Tony nodded. “Go for it,” he said. He gestured toward where Peter was sitting. “I think my little protégé and I need to have a talk, anyway.” At that, Sam turned back to the gears and began to lift the Quinjet out of the Raft. Quickly buckling up, Peter settled into his seat; the one next to him was then occupied by Tony. “Doing alright kid?”

“I’m fine… just confused about what happened,” Peter said. 

“I guess I do owe you an explanation,” Tony said. “When Sharon and I had that little private chat, we came up with a plan. You see, I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection—my therapist says it’s good for me—and I’m starting to realize that there were a lot of flaws in the Accords that I hadn’t anticipated or had been too blind with my own guilt to confront… that’s the jargon the therapist used, at least. So, Sharon and I thought that if we got the whole world to turn on Ross, we might be able to gain enough momentum to bring the Accords’ Committee back together. We contacted King T’Challa, who might very well be one of the most respected individuals in the committee, to start prepping a new draft of the Accords’ and we gave Steve a call to explain our plan. As it turns Steve and Nat were hidden in Wakanda, so T’Challa gave the two of them a ride over here.”

“A call? Like you two still text?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “It was an in-case-of-an-alien-invasion emergency sort of thing. Shield or not, he’s still Captain America.”

“How did you get everything recorded?”

“Simple,” Tony said. “When I asked for you to leave the suit in the workshop before the mission, I installed a camera. Sharon contacted all the news stations and sent them the feed when it was time. Don’t worry. I’ve already turned off the feed, so this conversation is completely private.”

“And was that why you kept acting so weird when you saw Steve? Like when you two kept referencing Accords subsections?” Peter asked.

Tony nodded. “It was Sharon’s idea. She knew exactly which Accords articles Ross kept referencing to justify what he was doing to the other Avengers. I figured the world and the governing officials on the Accords committee would be interested to hear how Ross was justifying what he was doing.”

“And you didn’t tell me because?” Peter asked.

Tony smiled. He draped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and said with a weary sigh, “If this had gone wrong and everyone sided with Ross, Sharon, Vision and I would have been arrested and charged with treason and given one of those pretty little cells at the Raft for our permanent bedroom. I wanted to protect you as much as I could.”

It wasn’t like Peter could be mad at Tony for that. At the end of the day, Peter was _just_ a fourteen-year-old kid. He wasn’t a war hero. He wasn’t an Avenger ( _not yet at least—Peter could still hope_ ). He was Spider-Man. Just the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who protected Queens for low-level criminals, advocated on behalf of New Yorkers, and every now and then helped an old lady across the street. Espionage and revising government documents and trying to force a federal government official out of office was a little above Peter’s paygrade; he could leave that Tony Stark. With that in mind, Peter leaned against the comfy seats of the Quinjet and closed his eyes to sleep, trying hard not to think about the fallout that would come now that the world knew about the Raft Prison.

* * *

#ResignThaddeusRoss and #FreetheAvengers rotated between #1 and #2 on twitter since the Avengers came back from the Raft Prison. Every news station from the local Channel 12 news in Ohio to the _New York Times_ was reporting on the Avengers and the video Tony had leaked. It did exactly what Tony and Sharon had intended: expose the type of person Thaddeus Ross, who had spearheaded the Accords, was to the rest of the world; communicate changes Steve Rogers _and_ Tony Stark wanted to make to the Accords so that the public could continue to encourage and demand a response from the UN and the Accords’ committee; and make sure the public knew what could happen if the power of the Accords fell into the wrong hands. Considering that Tony and Sharon were just going off luck (and praying that the public would be loud enough in response), his plan worked beautifully. Petitions upon petitions were created, signed, posted about, and talked about. Politicians from around the world were urging for the destruction and closure of the Raft. The endorsement of closing the Raft was _not_ the same thing as exonerating the arrested Avengers, which was made clear numerous times.

Getting the former Avengers out of the Raft was just the beginning of the reform that needed to be done. Thaddeus Ross corrupted what good intentions the Sokovia Accords had initially with his own personal agenda. Rather than using the Accords’ to put a stop to insurgents, gangs, power grabs and any other threats deemed worthy of the Avengers, Ross had spent most of the time advocating for more control over the remaining Avengers and funneling any funding the Accords’ Committee had to apprehending Steve Rogers. Not to mention, Ross squelched any opportunity or whisper of modifying and revising the Accords, especially when Tony Stark had been the one trying to make changes that may appease the tension between him and Steve Rogers. Ross’s own corruption and the cries of the public was just some of the many reasons the Accords’ Committee had to call for an emergency meeting in which the terms of the Accords were to be discussed with Steve Rogers, Tony Stark and King T’Challa leading the way. 

The fallout of what happened in the Raft began immediately. President Ellis, who had always been supportive of the Avengers and especially Steve Rogers, was more than happy to sign the executive order allowing the former Avengers to remain under house arrest at the Compound. The Compound was equipped for a full house with all the Avengers, including Peter, living there, so everyone had their private bedrooms, which happened to be the only place Peter was safe to fully take his suit off, not yet ready to share his real identity with the entirety of the Avengers. Wanda, Clint, Scott and Sam stayed in the infirmary to be treated for whatever wounds they sustained, while Steve, Tony, and Natasha immediately fell back into their roles as the primary team leaders. It seemed like they never slept, spending every day in meetings with the Accords’ Committee and the UN to begin the revision process of the Sokovia Accords. 

Just hours before the Avengers were to report to the conference room for their official testimony on the Accords (which confused Peter— _wasn’t the entire Accords council supposed to be present? Where exactly were they?),_ the Avengers were gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. Seeing every Avenger besides that of Thor and Dr. Banner at the compound with Peter, feeling thoroughly out of place sitting there with his mask half on so that he could eat the cereal he scrounged from the cabinets, was one of the most bizarre and _awesome_ experiences of Peter’s life. They ate in silence, watching the news report that had been left on ever since the group came home from the Raft. The news scene shifted to _Breaking News:_ it was the first report that Thaddeus Ross had resigned from his position as Secretary of State. Evidently, the United States and even other countries around the world expressed outrage with what Secretary Ross had said and how he treated the former Avengers, and it was enough to pressure Ross into leaving his current post. There wasn’t much support left in the White House for Ross, either. 

“Guess Ross is officially off our ass,” Sam Wilson said. “What happened to him going to jail?” 

“At least we won't be seeing him at the meetings this week,” Natasha said.

“Who will be giving their statement first?” Wanda asked over a cup of coffee. It was the first time she spoke—at least in front of Peter—since they returned to the Raft. She looked healthier: some of the color had returned to her cheeks and the bruising on her neck had started to heal.

“We’ll all be in there together,” Steve said. He stopped and turned to look at Peter. “Except for you, Spider-Man. Tony and I spoke last night and you’re not an official member of the Avengers yet, so we think it’ll be in your best interest to stay out of the meetings.”

Peter thought about protesting— _he didn’t need to be coddled he was ready to grow into his role as an Avenger_ —but Clint asked a question before Peter could get a word in edgewise. “And what exactly will be happening during these conferences? Because if they’re here to debate whether or not to imprison us again, I think I’ll head out now.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Nothing like that,” he promised. “After world officials found out about the Raft Prison and what Ross had done with the power he got from the Accords, governments are more than willing to discuss some changes to the Accords.”

“Changes?” Clint repeated. “Are we talking like ‘the government is saying they’ll make changes, meet for a few hours and then do nothing’ or real, fundamental shifts in how the Accords operate?”

“I trust King T’Challa will lead the committee to make appropriate modifications,” Vision said.

“And we’ll finally be able to give our two cents as well,” Sam said. “Which is what we wanted in the first place.”

Steve and Tony shared a meaningful look. “Change will be good,” Steve agreed.

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Change is what the world needs. It’s good to have the team back, too.”

“Yeah,” Steve muttered. He looked around, as though taking in the appearance of the compound for the very first time. “I missed this place.”

Natasha nodded, putting her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I think we just missed each other.”

* * *

When all the Avengers went to the conference room, Peter expected that his job was done… But he was wrong. A couple hours after the meeting started and when Peter was an hour deep in watching some random Netflix original film, Natasha Romanoff showed back up in the kitchen and explained that the Accords committee wanted to speak with him.

“ _Me?”_ Peter exclaimed.

“Yes. _You_ ,” Natasha repeated. She was already rushing up the stairs to the conference room, Peter scrambling to keep up with her. When they were right outside the door, Natasha turned on Peter. “We’re in here trying to amend an international treaty, so, _please_ don’t screw this up.”

_That surely didn’t help with the pressure,_ Peter thought to himself as he followed Natasha inside.

“Holy shit” was all Peter could manage as he looked, utterly and completely flabbergasted around the conference room. The Avengers were rigidly sitting on benches and chairs in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, but that wasn’t what warranted Peter’s reaction. In the center of the conference room was the cherry table, surrounded by holographic images of some of the most famous world leaders. Among the holographic images was King T’Challa, adorned in black silk and wearing glimmering jewelry, standing in the center of the conference table. Beside T’Challa, Peter recognized Everett Ross, wearing a pristine luxury suit and looking thoroughly exhausted. Behind them, the immensely large screens projected what had to have been over 100 different faces, men and women of all different colors and nationalities, all of which were labeled with the name of the dignitary. They were all gazing down at Peter with speculative and sometimes even disapproving expressions.

Feeling suddenly incredibly underdressed in his Spider-Man suit, Peter turned to Natasha Romanoff for extra support. She didn’t seem bothered by the sheer number of incredibly powerful people gazing down on the two of them. She chuckled, tipping her head up to whisper in Peter’s ear. “You do realize you just swore in front of 137 foreign dignitaries who all signed the Sokovia Accords?”

If it hadn’t been for the mask, the entire world would have seen Peter’s face flush such a bright shade of red it would have rivaled that of Natasha Romanoff’s hair. “Oh… uh… _sorry?_ Nice to meet you all. I’m, uh, I’m Spider-Man. _”_ Peter fumbled. The suit was starting to feel unbelievably restricting and hot. Fortunately, most of the foreign dignitaries in the room had a sense of humor, and many of them smiled in response. Even T’Challa managed a light chuckle.

“Spider-Man, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” T’Challa said, his voice echoing throughout the expansive conference room.

“A pleasure, yes,” said another dignitary at the table. Peter glanced at the table: Elizabeth Andrews; there was no label for what region of the world she represented but her thick accent sounded an awful lot like an English accent. Perhaps, a representative for somewhere in the UK? “But _see_? Not necessarily. One of the primary concerns we have with Spider-Man is his—or _her—_ anonymity. If there were to be extensive civilian causalities or multimillion-dollar property damage, how can we, the UN and the Accords’ committee,” —she gestured toward her counterparts at the table—, “keep _you_ accountable?”

Peter swallowed hard. “I realize that not knowing my identity can be—” Peter started. He faltered, the little courage he had left in him vanishing immediately as the council looked increasingly unimpressed after hearing him speak for the first time. 

“Frightening?” another councilman added, this time someone from the monitors up above. “A justified cause of worry?”

“Frightening?” T’Challa chimed in. Unlike his counterparts, he didn’t seem too alarmed by Peter’s presence; if anything, he looked amused. “The only thing frightening about this individual is that they’re _only_ in New York and not available to protect the rest of the world.”

“We’re not denying his usefulness to New York,” said the same councilwoman from before— _Elizabeth Andrews._ “We are just not fond of the idea that there is a rogue, anonymous Avenger who we know nothing about.”

Natasha came to Peter’s rescue. “Before we go on and reveal any identities, let me remind you that Spider-Man is not an official member of the Avenger—”

“Yes, well, that’s another point we’re here to discuss, aren’t we?” said another government official. Peter was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening that he couldn’t even tell who was speaking. “Not only are we not sure who is under that mask, you also seem to have taken the responsibility of deciding when you choose to operate as part of the Avengers’ team and when you do not. At the very least, when you work on a team, you can discuss what you do on missions. How can we trust your judgement when you are acting alone?”

“Do you understand why we are uncomfortable with having an anonymous vigilante operating within their own set of laws?” another person said.

“If you would just take the mask off—”

“Look, I’m not here to share my identity with anyone,” Peter said. Every thought Peter had been dwelling over the past couple weeks was coming to the surface. Regardless of that Peter was staring down the entire Accords committee, this might be his only opportunity to defend himself, and he was going to do just that. “I respect every one of you in this room. And I understand it’s scary to think that there is a team full of superhumans who possess more power than any of you can ever dream of. Believe me, as someone who grew up in New York during all the attacks the past few years, I know the feeling. But I also feel safe here knowing that the Avengers are making decisions for the greater good, rather than making decisions for their own self-interest. They operate here on the notion that they’re responsible for protecting threats that our regular human armies can’t fight. They don’t care about money. They don’t care about power. They care about restoring safety and peace. I don’t think we can always say the same about the government officials _you all_ left in charge of the Accords.”

Even T’Challa looked impressed by Peter’s boldness. “If they cared about power, seizing control, running the world, face it, they would have done it by now… I might not be an Avenger, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the same moral compass as them. Just like the Avengers, I’m not here for power or money. I’m here because I was given an opportunity to help others in ways that not a lot of people can dream of. And I’m keeping my identity a secret because I have my own people to protect. It doesn’t matter how much you beg for me to take my mask off or for me to only stop crime when you all approve for me to do it. If I see something wrong or if I see another person being hurt, it’s my responsibility to protect them. Accords or not, you can’t change that.”

“And if you don’t consider yourself an Avenger, how would you define what you are?” someone asked.

Peter grinned under his mask. “I’m just the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” 

His words hung in the air for a long moment; out of the corner of Peter’s eyes, he could see Natasha smirking up at the Accords’ committee. Then, T’Challa spoke. “I believe Spider-Man has expressed his point of view on signing the Accords and on his identity. We can get started on drafting our revisions and crafting a New Sokovia Accords.” T’Challa didn’t wait for any of the other officials to protest. “Ms. Romanoff, would you be so kind as to escort Spider-Man out of the conference room?”

“Of course,” Natasha said. She put her hand on Peter’s shoulders and guided him toward the door.

When they were outside, the adrenaline that kept Peter going through that speech faded quickly. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. “Did I just say that to the entire Accords’ committee?”

Natasha laughed. “Doesn’t it feel kind of good to tell the government to piss off every now and then?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh, though he sounded more nervous than happy. “Kind of.”

Natasha patted him on the back. “I like you, kid. Hope you stick around.”

In the back of Peter’s head, he hoped that he would get to stick around, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. Very excited to be able to give these characters a happy ending and bring the team back together :)


	3. The Newest Avenger

Chapter Three: The Newest Avenger

The Avengers didn’t leave the conference room until 11pm that night, leaving Peter to sulk around the Compound, overthinking everything he had just said. Was he too harsh? Callous? Unprofessional? Because Peter wasn’t very cordial and willing to listen to what the committee had to say, does that mean they’re less likely to let Peter remain anonymous? When the Avengers came out of the conference room, he didn’t get any answers, either. They didn’t seem very angry, which was a positive sign that the meetings today were productive. But, when Peter asked what kind of changes the committee was thinking, Steve just grumbled back, “It’s still a working process.”

No updates about the Accords were brought to the team until a few days later (thankfully, summer break started a week ago, so Peter could stay at the compound for as long as he would like). It was another typical breakfast at the compound: Wanda and Vision were lounging on the love seat in the kitchen, mulling over cups of coffee; Clint and Natasha were muttering amongst themselves by the coffee maker; Sam, Peter and Scott were sitting quietly at the kitchen table across from Tony and Steve. Peter wondered if the Avengers always seemed this disjointed amongst themselves, or if it was more of a post-Accords kind of thing. If that was the case, how long would this divide last?

Peter sat across from Tony and Steve. They were sitting close together, knees practically touching underneath the table. A common description the two of them faced from gossip magazines and Instagram fan pages was that these two were the heart of the Avengers team and _nothing_ was the same now that they weren’t leading the team anymore; they were the parents—the “married couple” that kept the team together. Whether or not they were aware of that description, Peter had to admit that seeing them staring down at Peter with their arms crossed was starting to give him major déjà vu of every time he got in trouble in sixth grade and Uncle Ben and Aunt May were trying to chastise him.

“Something funny?” Tony asked.

Peter shook his head, quickly, face going as stoic as possible. “No.” He quickly returned to his bowl of cereal. Eyes trained on his spoon as he sloshed around some Lucky Charms, Peter could still feel Steve and Tony staring at him. “I can’t eat when you guys are staring at me.”

“Sorry _,”_ Steve said, breaking eye contact with Peter. 

“Eat your Lucky Charms,” Tony said, reminding Peter of when May would chastise him for not wanting to eat his broccoli at dinner.

“What’s going on with you two?” Natasha said. She occupied the seat next to Peter. “You two normally wait to have your intimate chats when the kids are all in their rooms.”

“Very funny,” Steve grumbled. “I guess since we’re all here… Tony and I received a call from President Ellis and King T’Challa early this morning.” That got the attention of the other Avengers; Clint, Vision and Wanda came to join the rest of them at the dinner table.

“About?” Wanda asked, quietly.

“It seems that Ellis and King T’Challa have created a new version of the Accords,” Tony said. Peter’s stomach twisted and then did a flip. A _new_ version of the Accords? What happened to just completely abolishing it?

“Already?” Vision asked. “Without our input?”

“They aren’t going to present it to the committee until we’ve all read over it,” Steve said. “We just received a copy and we wanted everyone to take the day to read it.”

“Including you, Spider-Man,” Tony said.

Breakfast ended promptly after that. Copies of the new Accords were distributed to each of the Avengers, all of whom disbanded to their respective rooms to start reading through the hefty document. Peter, who normally wasn’t one capable of sitting still long enough to read a 200-page document, poured over every single word and took notes on every single detail he didn’t like, he thought his head was going to explode by the time he was finished. 

Peter didn’t consider himself a fan of the Accords at all, but he had to admit that this new draft incorporated everything that he had gripes with and that he assumed governing countries may have had gripes with. Because Ross abused the Accords for his own agenda, the autonomy of the Avengers was shifted back to Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. No country had the power to decide _for_ the Avengers when they needed to convene, but rather this document provided outlines on how the Avengers needed to communicate that they were going to a specific country for a mission. This new draft focused on _what_ the Avengers should do when they reach a country: let the government know, notify local law enforcement, and centralize their efforts on evacuating the area of civilians. Any weapon of mass destruction that the Avengers would invent that exceeded the volatile power of weapons or Avengers already in place (basically meaning that if Tony found a way to create a weapon with more destructive capabilities than Wanda Maximoff or the Vision), it would have to be approved by the Accords. It looked like a lot more paperwork and meetings for the Avengers, as one of the clauses in the Accords called for regular meetings to update what the Avengers were doing so that the Accords committee was informed.

What intrigued Peter the most about this draft of the Accords was how they were going to utilize the Raft. They were not going to abolish it like Peter thought they would after finding out what Ross did to the former Avengers. Rather, they would keep it in case of a legitimate and very serious threat that needed to be contained. Who gets sent to the Accords had to be approved by a majority of the Accords committee _and_ by 100% of all Avengers listed on the document. As it turns out, Peter _was not_ one of the members listed on the document. In fact, there was a specific section of the Accords that explicitly discussed Spider-Man. When operating in New York, Spider-Man could do so freely without being confined to any boundaries of the Accords. However, when operating as part of the Avengers team, Spider-Man was required to operate within the Accords missions and his participation had to be reported to the Accords committee. His identity could, thankfully, remain a secret.

Once everyone was able to finish reading this new draft of the Accords and after sharing any grievances they had with it, Steve and Tony expressed whatever changes the Avengers were hoping for and sent the draft to T’Challa and President Ellis. After spending two days racked with anxiety about what the Accords committee was discussing behind closed doors, Tony and Steve relayed the news that the Accords draft had been ratified by all 137 countries and that all exiled Avengers were now reinstated. The team was back together. 

* * *

Tony and Steve let Peter stay at the Compound for another week after the new Accords had been ratified. And it was one of the best weeks of Peter’s life. You have no idea how much Peter had been fantasizing about getting to spend any amount of time at the Compound with the Avengers. When Peter felt that the time was right, and after Tony’s support, he took his mask off and formally introduced himself as Peter Parker. No one forced Peter to reveal his identity, but he felt ready and he felt like he could trust the other Avengers. To say that they were shocked to discover he was only fifteen was an understatement. But they masked their shock well, quickly welcoming Peter with handshakes or pats on the back and promising him that his identity was a secret they would take to the grave. In true Sam Wilson fashion, he cracked a few jokes, too, “So, it _was_ a kid’s voice that I heard at the airport.”

Now that the team knew his identity, he felt like he fit in seamlessly at the compound. Like he was part of the Avengers’ family—and not just an outsider or a team mascot or a gimmick. Being around Captain America was a dream, and one that Peter had surely had when he was younger. All the rumors of Steve Rogers being virtuous, righteous, kind-hearted, driven and honest were true. He was all those things and more. Steve would sit with Peter through every meal to keep him company, discuss war stories from his past, listen to Peter animatedly talk about all the criminals he’s taken down and answer any questions Peter had. And Peter had _many:_ what was Wakanda like? How did you meet Bucky? Do you remember anything from the seventy years you were on ice? That last question clearly struck a chord and Peter immediately stammered out an apology for prying too deep. But any time Peter’s curiosity got the better of his judgement, Steve never chastised him. He welcomed the curiosity and the _excitement_ Peter had to be part of this team whole-heartedly.

Natasha was hard to read, though that wasn’t too surprising, given her extensive background as a SHIELD spy and double agent. Stories of her past that Peter had read in history books and news sights hardly did her strength, courage and intelligence justice. She read Peter better than he even read himself sometimes. She would frequently cook dinner for Peter and Steve, making authentic Russian dishes and heckling Steve as he would recount past missions with SHIELD he and she did prior to finding out that it was Hydra. Sam had found his footing after being released from the Accords’ quickly. He joked around a lot with the others, made light of an otherwise meek situation. And he picked on Peter. A lot. _Spider-Boy. The team mascot._ All in good nature, though. But Peter could see through the jokes. Being in the Raft had clearly done a number on him; Peter could see it when Wilson zoned out and just _stared._ Not at anything, eyes just locked in a trance, like he was a million miles away. But he was handling himself well. And if there was anything bothering him, he never let Peter know.

The rest of the team was pretty MIA. Clint and Scott both “retired” to return to their family. Scott, who hardly had a relationship with any of the Avengers, said his goodbyes almost directly after the revised Accords’ draft had been signed. Clint stayed around for a while, tying up loose ends and saying his goodbyes to his former teammates; Peter hadn’t even realized that the archer _had_ a family. Evidently, that gossip story had been kept out of the news circulation for the safety of his family. Wanda Maximoff and Vision were hardly around anymore, too. They came down for dinner once but didn’t really speak to any of the other Avengers. The following day, Wanda, Vision, Steve and Tony spent a long time talking in Tony’s office, and the next day, Wanda and Vision were on a Quinjet flying off to who knows where with a couple duffel bags and a promise that they would return to the Compound if they were ever needed.

Steve and Tony were trying to work out their problems, too. They would disappear to Tony’s office upstairs for several hours at time. “What are they doing up there?” Peter would ask Natasha every time Steve and Tony were meeting in private.

Natasha shrugged. “Gazing into each other’s eyes? Flirting?”

Jokes aside, Peter guessed that they were talking about Siberia and Bucky Barnes. Barnes was still in Wakanda and was, as far as Peter knew, going to stay there for the time-being. He wasn’t sure what Wakanda had that Tony Stark couldn’t provide… maybe it was just that Wakanda was on the other side of the world and far away from Tony. Either way, knowing that Barnes wasn’t going to be joining the compound any time soon had taken its toll on Steve. He wasn’t necessarily mourning the death of his best friend, but he was mourning loss, either way. Steve was stilling hurting. And so was Tony. And Natasha, who always seemed to looking over her shoulder. _Everyone_ was still hurting from the schism in Germany. But it seemed like they were trying to make a point to do everything they could to set aside their differences for Peter’s sake. When he walked into the room, the glowering and glares and silent anger faded, replaced with happy smiles and warm welcomes. At first, the pleasantries seemed fake. And they were. But as time passed, it seemed like the deep mistrust was starting to cool. Natasha and Tony were getting along more, and Steve and Tony were starting to laugh over jokes and old stories again.

It felt like things were starting to go back to normal—or as normal as the Compound could be after the creation of the Accords’—which was why it was all the more difficult for Peter to accept that it was time for him to go home. He dragged his feet through the compound as he sadly threw his clothes back into the duffel bag, not bothering to properly fold any of his shirts or pants. Peter stopped short when he found the blue and red sweatshirt and matching pants set, the original Spider-Man suit. “Guess it’s back to this,” Peter muttered to himself, running his fingers along the goggles, before throwing it back into the duffel bag.

To say that Peter wasn’t excited to return to his normal life was an understatement. He felt special at the compound, even though he wasn’t nearly the most powerful or the most intelligent or even that important of a player on the Avengers team just yet. Still, there weren’t any school bullies. Peter didn’t feel like a nobody just _there_ and unseen by everyone who passed him. 

“You ready to go?” Peter looked behind him to see Steve Rogers leaning against the door frame.

“Are you coming?” Peter asked.

Steve nodded, stepping through the threshold of the guest bedroom Peter was staying in and crossing over to stand beside Peter. “Yeah, of course. Haven’t been to Queens in forever.” Steve picked up the old Spider-Man suit. “You made this, right?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah.”

“And the webbing?”

“Yes.”

“Impressive,” Steve said. “You did a lot of great things with this suit. I’ve watched the videos.” He put the pajama set back into the duffel bag and zipped it up. “Come on. Tony’s outside and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Damn right,” said another voice. Tony. He was standing by the doorway, too. “Happy’s got the limo running. You ready?”

 _No,_ Peter thought to himself. “Yeah, all set,” Peter said, grabbing the duffel bag and following Tony and Steve into the car. On any other occasion, Peter would be ecstatic that he was getting into a limousine with two Avengers. But the idea of leaving the Compound behind and the suit with it made Peter feel terrible on the inside. He would miss this. The feeling of stretchy spandex fabric Tony had designed for him, and the daily interaction with his idols that he had looked up to ever since he was eight. To make matters worse, Peter’s aunt, May, had been texting him for the past two days begging for updates about what he was doing, and he had no idea what he was going to tell her. He thought about lies he could tell her: testing out prototypes, designing blueprints. She didn’t care much for that kind of stuff, so Peter figured that would be enough to get her off his case. But she was disappointed when he came back from Germany with no pictures. To put her at ease, Peter had an idea, taking his cell phone, but then feeling immediately embarrassed. He tried to put his phone away before Steve or Tony noticed, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“What are you doing with that?” Tony asked. He gestured toward Peter’s phone. “You know, this is private Avengers business. If we see us on Snapchat or any of those other social media sites, I’ll have to confiscate all of your electronic devices.”

“What?” Peter stammered.

“He’s kidding,” Steve said, quickly, but it was obvious how much he was trying to suppress a smile. “But it’s probably not going to be good for your secret identity if you go around posting pictures from this past week.”

Peter shook his head. “No, no, no. It wasn’t going to be anything like that.” His face went beat red. “Actually, May was asking a bunch of questions about what I was doing in Germany and I didn’t really have a good answer. I also didn’t really have any video proof that I was even doing something for a Stark Internship.” The more and more Peter was talking, the more anxious he was starting to get. “I was just thinking, maybe we could do a little video diary.”

“A what?” Steve said.

“Vlog. Video diary. Documenting lives with a handheld device called a cell phone,” Tony said; the sarcasm was hard to miss. “Get with the times, Cap. But I like it. A little alibi video? Something we could show Aunt May?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thinking.” 

“Bring it over here,” Tony said. “Come on!”

Peter moved fast. He wedged himself in between Steve and Tony, turning his camera so that it was facing the three of them. The image of Peter in between two Avengers was pretty comical. Peter looked so young and out of place, especially next to Steve Rogers, who was practically towering over Peter and, Tony, his sleek glasses on and exuding confidence. Then again, May would probably be more suspicious if Peter was acting calm, cool and collected while filming a short clip with two Avengers, so Peter let himself relish in the excitement and unbelievability of the situation. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning and eyeing Tony out of the corner of his eyes in amazement as they recorded the video.

“Hey May!” Tony said to the camera. “What are you doing? What are you wearing? Something skimpy, I hope.” 

“Tony!” Steve groaned. Peter, flushing bright red, immediately turned the video off.

Tony laughed. “I’m kidding. That’s inappropriate. Let’s start over.” Ignoring the glare from Steve and the look of disbelief of Peter’s face, Tony reached over to hit the record button to start the next take. “Hey May! My gosh, uh, I wanted to tell you what an incredible job your nephew did this weekend at the Stark internship retreat. Everyone was impressed. Isn’t that right, Steve?”

The camera panned to Steve, who looked as though he was trying to melt into the car to get out of talking. “Uh, yeah,” Steve stammered. “He was great. Very smart kid.”

Tony chuckled, redirecting the angle of the camera so that it was focused on him once again. “Don’t mind him. Not great in the front of the camera. Very good at the whole inspirational speech thing, but I did always try to handle the PR myself. Either way, Steve was correct about your nephew.” Tony said, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder, “Peter was excellent this week. Very bright kid. Very promising future. I’m excited to keep working with him.” Tony turned the camera off, Peter still reeling from the shower of compliments Tony had just given him, even if it was just fabricated for May’s purpose. “Did that work? You think she’ll buy it?”

Peter nodded, the ability to speak completely lost on him. 

The limo pulled up in front of Peter’s apartment. All the surrealness and out-of-world experience that Peter had been feeling the past few days suddenly came crashing down as he looked at his home. The brick walls. The unruly and unkempt vines. The blue curtains pulled tight across nearly every apartment window. It felt so _normal._ And it didn’t fit how Peter felt right now, sitting in Tony Stark’s personal limo, driven by Happy Hogan, wedged in between _the_ Captain America and _the_ Iron-Man. Peter missed May more than anything, but there was a part of Peter that really didn’t want to get out of the car. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this world of Avenging. He couldn’t bring himself to part from an experience and adventure that made he feel like he was really doing something good for the world. That made he feel like he was special and not just nerdy kid that got picked on by Flash Thompson as school.

“This is the place, isn’t it?” Happy said, turning from the driver’s seat, when he realized that Peter hadn’t started to move. “If I have to keep driving you three around—”

“Yes!” Peter said, quickly. “This is my place.” He pointed to the apartment complex in front of them, feeling suddenly ashamed of how shabby his place looked compared to the pristine appearance of the Avengers’ Compound. “Seventh floor. I’m right there… I guess I’ll just be going.”

Tony put his hand out, keeping Peter still where he was sitting. “Actually, let’s chat for a second.” Tony turned to look at Happy, who was impatiently staring at the three of them. “Happy, can you give us a second with the kid?”

Happy looked thoroughly indignant. “What?” he spluttered. “I-I thought we needed to get going.”

“We do,” Tony said. “ _We will._ But Steve and I just need to have a chat with the kid. Do you mind? Maybe you can get his bags out of the car?” Happy grumbled under his breath, but he got out of the car no less and slammed the car door behind him.

With Happy gone, Peter suddenly realized that Tony and Steve were staring at him as though Peter was in the middle of an interrogation. Both of their lips were stretched into a smile and given the tension that always seemed to be just underneath the surface between the two of them, that made Peter a little nervous. They were definitely plotting something, but they were pretty difficult to read right now. Did Peter do something wrong? “Uh, is everything okay?” Peter asked, looking back and forth between Steve and Tony. 

“You know,” Tony said, putting his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “I see a lot of him” —Tony nodded his head toward Steve— “in you. Well… _young_ him. All gung-ho to do the right thing. All about fighting bullies. Keeping them from picking on the little guy. 

“Tony—” Steve interrupted.

Tony held his hands up in surrender. “You got talent, kid. I see goodness and righteousness in you. Always want to do the right thing. Just like Cap over there, especially when we first de-iced him. You’re a little more chaotic, though. Kind of all over the place. Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days if you’re not careful. Definitely could use a little bit of training and fine-tuning, wouldn’t you say Cap?”

“Definitely,” Steve grinned. “You’re not bad, though, Queens. For someone who just got their powers, you’re not too shabby in a fight. I’ll get you whipped into shape.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. And suddenly—he thought his heart was going to explode. He thought he knew where Steve and Tony were taking this conversation and what they were implying. “Wait, what are you saying? Are you saying you’re going to train me? Take me under your wing? Teach me how to fight? Because that would be so cool!” Peter couldn’t stop himself from envisioning being the Avengers’ Compound learning new fighting styles from Captain America and practicing how to utilize his agility and size against his opponent from the Black Widow and really pushing himself to fight and prevail against other-worldly beings like the Vision.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tony said. “You’re still fourteen-years-old. You’re young. You should be worried about your first kiss. Or—have you had your first kiss, by the way?”

Peter’s cheeks flushed pink. “Um, I mean, yeah, of course.” 

The lie was painfully obvious, but fortunately Tony and Steve steamrolled over that comment. “Like I was saying, normal high school things like dating and skipping school and getting your driver’s licenses are what you should be worried about,” Tony said, “Not taking down bad guys or anything like that. You focus on yourself and the little guy.”

“School first, of course. _No skipping class._ ” Steve said. “And your safety and secret identity is our top priority.”

“But?” Peter asked.

Tony smiled. “But the suit is yours. You’ve earned it. More than earned it. You really gave Cap over here a run for their money.”

“Not to mention, you handled yourself admirably during the Accords’ meeting,” Steve added.

Peter’s mind was still caught up in what Tony had said before. The phone Peter was still clutching in his hand slipped out, clattering onto the floor of the car. “You mean…” Peter stammered. The ecstasy and euphoria would set in later. Right now, it was just shock. Pure shock. _He could keep the suit._ Peter could throw away the onesie, never even think about the goggles he used to block out some of the stimuli. _The suit was his!_ It wasn’t that the original Spider-Man suit Peter had used didn’t do the trick. He really was proud of that suit. All the components of it Peter had gathered himself. He created the webbing himself. The science behind what made the original suit special was all Peter’s intellect and he was proud of that. But Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t more excited to have the suit Tony Stark designed for him. Beside the fact that it didn’t make Spider-Man look like a kid dressed up in blue sweatpants and red hoodie, it made fighting a lot easier. The fabric was fitting, so it didn’t get in Peter’s way when fighting. Not to mention, the suit was better at blocking out unnecessary stimuli and identifying details that Peter may not have noticed before. The possibilities of what Peter could do with the suit was endless. 

There was a knock on the door, pulling Peter from his thoughts. It was Happy, holding up Peter’s duffel bag and the metal briefcase that contained the Spider-Man suit. “What do I do with this?” he asked through the glass window.

“Take it up to his place,” Tony said. “Seventh floor, right?”

“Seventh floor?” Happy repeated.

“I can take it up myself,” Peter quickly stammered. The last thing Peter wanted was for May Parker to be left alone with Happy Hogan to question him and pry about what Peter was doing over the past couple of days. “Just leave it outside the door.” He turned back to Tony and Steve, the feeling of shock and disbelief settling back in. “You mean, I can keep the suit?”

“Yeah, it’s what we were just talking about,” Tony said, dismissively. “Let’s just remember that the suit is a multimillion-dollar piece of equipment. It’s capable of doing some real damage. I don’t need you getting hurt on my conscience, okay? And I definitely don’t want phone calls from the NYPD about some kid prancing around in one of my suits pissing them off, okay?”

Peter nodded, quickly. “Of course, of course.” 

“Just… don’t do anything I would do. But definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Tony added. “There’s a gray area in the middle and that’s where you’ll operate.”

Peter’s brows knit together. “I… um…”

“You’ll be fine, Peter,” Steve said. “Getting this suit is a big responsibility, but Tony and I both trust you. And we’ll be here by your side the entire time for help or support. In fact, all the Avengers at the compound are there for you if you need anything.”

“And by anything, we do mean anything,” Tony said. “Need a history lesson on World War 2 for a paper? This guy’s got you covered.” Tony gestured toward Steve. “World languages? I’m sure Natasha knows whatever it is you study at your school.”

Peter grinned. “Does this mean I’m an Avenger?”

“ _Temporary_ Avenger,” Tony corrected. “We’re still keeping the training wheels on.”

“But that’s still an Avenger—”

“We’re just testing the water right now,” Steve said. “We trust you Peter, but like we said, school first. When you have some free time, we’ll get some training in. And if we ever need you, we’ll call you.”

Peter grinned. _They’ll call me,_ he thought to himself. He couldn’t help but indulge in the fantasy of confidently abandoning his boring English class to load up in the Quinjet alongside the likes of Captain America, Black Widow, and the Falcon, all the while Flash Thompson gazing at Peter, a look of disbelief sweeping across his face. “Do you have my number? Do you know how to get a hold of me?” Peter said, frantically grabbing for his cell phone.

“Yes, yes, we’ll be able to get a hold of you,” Steve reassured. “We will call you, Peter.” It was more than just Steve Rogers placating Peter to ease the shock of what he was feeling. It was promise, coming from one of the most highly regarded and trustworthy individuals in the country if not the world. After all the loss Peter had felt during his lifetime, from his parents to his uncle dying, Peter was always scared of losing connections from the people he loved. But Peter didn’t feel that fear right now. He could trust Captain America’s word, because it had to be true. He was Captain America.

“Okay,” Peter said, trying to keep himself from freaking out any more than he already had. “Okay.”

Tony leaned over. Not completely sure what to make of this sudden gesture, Peter quickly and eagerly wrapped his arm around the older man. It felt like a long time since Peter had hugged anyone who cared for him besides May. It felt nice. It felt like family. It felt like—

Tony cleared his throat. “This isn’t hug. I’m just grabbing the door for you.” Sure enough, Tony’s hand was latched onto the door handle behind Peter. “We’re not there yet.”

“Oh,” Peter said, his cheeks flushing. On any normal occasion, he would have been disappointed, but the shock of being offered the new Spider-Man suit was barring Peter from feeling any other emotion than pure excitement.

“Okay, I’m just messing with you kid. Bring it in,” Tony said, holding his arms out wide. At first, Peter thought he was kidding but the look on Tony’s face conveyed seriousness. “Come on.” Tony flourished his arms again. “This offer won’t last for much longer.” Peter, still a little unsure, leaned forward cautiously until he felt the older man gently throw his arms around Peter. At first, the two stayed an awkward distant away from each other, until Peter felt Tony’s arms around him relax into the hug. In the background, Steve was chuckling. “Old man, you can get in this if you want to?”

Steve laughed. “I think I’m alright for now,” Steve said. “Maybe some other time.” _Some other time_ implied that Peter and Steve would definitely see each other again.

Peter pulled away from Tony. “That was nice,” Tony said. He pushed the door open; the door clanged against the briefcase. “Now, come on. Steve and I have got to go. If we stay here any longer, Happy’s going to blow a fuse.”

“Yep, I’m going,” Peter said, trying hard to suppress the goofy smile that he thought was going to be permanently plastered on his face. He scrambled out of the car and grabbed for the briefcase and duffel bag that had fallen over after being hit by the door. Behind Peter, the car door had been closed already, but the window had been rolled down, Tony and Steve peering through it; Happy was already eagerly getting back into the driver’s seat. “So, you’ll call me?” Peter repeated, his own insecurity and fear of being left behind showing itself just slightly.

“We’ll call you,” Steve confirmed.

“Soon?”

Steve smirked. “When it’s time.” 

They didn’t say anything else. The window rolled up just a few seconds after, leaving Peter to stare back at his own reflection in the blackened-out car window. The engine roared to life, the headlights and brake lights flickering back on, and the car was off, disappearing around the corner, leaving no trace that they were ever there behind. The only indication to Peter that what had just happened was _real_ , that Tony Stark and Steve Rogers had escorted Peter home, was the metal briefcase in Peter’s hand. He clutched it so tightly, as though it was the only thing grounding Peter, as though if he let go of the briefcase, he would wake up from this dream and lose everything that had just been offered to him. “They’re gonna call me…” Peter whispered, laughter escaping from his lips. “They’re gonna… I’m an Avenger.”

He hurried upstairs to his apartment, greeting every neighbor he passed with an overly enthusiastic grin, to which most responded with an uncomfortable, half-hearted smile. Inside, May was waiting at the kitchen table, mulling over what looked like a cup of tea and skimming through some magazines. She looked up, glasses perched neatly on her nose, lips stretching into an excited smile. “Oh, you’re finally home!” she exclaimed, throwing whatever magazine she was reading aside, getting her to her feet and pulling Peter into a bear hug. “I want to hear all about it!” 

“Uh, it’s kind of top secret,” Peter admitted, the same excuse he told her when she wanted to know what had happened in Germany. “But,” Peter added, before his aunt could question him further. “I want to show you something.” 

He handed May his cell phone, the video that Tony, Steve and he had just made ready to be played. The video, though it didn’t contain any details about what had happened over the past few days, was enough to get May off Peter’s case. She kept watching the video, thinking it was fabricated or edited, and laughing giddily when she realized that Tony Stark really was complimenting Peter. After Peter was able to throw his duffel bag into his room and slip the metal briefcase carefully under his bed, he immediately returned to the kitchen table where he and May talked about what it was like to meet not just Tony Stark but the other Avengers. It wasn’t completely a lie when Peter described the tension between Tony and Steve when revising the Accords as being so thick you could practically feel it, nor was it a lie when Peter talked about every detail of what the other Avengers looked, sounded, and acted like. 

When the gossiping was over and Peter could escape to his bedroom, he told May he was going to unpack his duffel bag. Instead, Peter closed the door and pulled the metal briefcase out from underneath his bed. To access the suit, it required a four-digit passcode, which Peter so intelligently had used _1234_ , and a fingerprint scan. After inputting all the necessary security measures, the latches keeping the briefcase closed popped open. And there it was. The gleaming Spider-Man suit with the bright red and the dark black detailing. Just looking at it made Peter’s stomach twist up in excitement. He held the suit up, tempted to put it on and swing around outside his apartment, running his fingers against the detailing in the suit. Peter grabbed for the mask, excited to try some of the new gadgets and features Tony talked about. Just as he was about to slip the mask on, he heard a voice.

“Ned, he just got home! He’s supposed to be in his room unpacking,” came May’s voice.

 _Shit!_ Peter thought to himself, frantically throwing the suit in the direction of his closet, not bothering to make sure that it was actually concealed in the closet. Quickly, Peter grabbed hold of the duffel bag off the floor, yanked the zipper open so fast Peter nearly ripped it off and then began to throw clothes onto his bed. He pretended not to notice the sound of the door opening behind him as he sorted through the clothes on his bed into piles of dirty and clean. Behind him was Ned, his best friend ever since Peter moved in with May and Ben when he was eight years old. The two of them shared nearly everything with each other, ranging from Peter’s obsessive crush with Liz Allen, this really pretty junior who was a member of the Academic Decathlon, to Ned’s fear of learning to drive or studying to get his licenses (even though he turned fifteen a few months ago) and even to the story of what happened to Peter’s parents and to Uncle Ben. 

“Bro, you’re back!” Ned exclaimed. “You’ve got to tell me all about. I heard the Avengers were getting back together! Is it true? Did you get to meet them?”

Ned really was Peter’s personal cheerleader, supporting him through every challenge and excitedly praising him through every victory. Of everyone in the world, Peter wanted to tell Ned his secret the most. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about all the Avenger missions or excitedly discuss the newest Spider-Man suit… but Peter knew Ned would go insane if Peter told him that was Spider-Man. Not to mention, if someone found out that Ned knew the real identity of Spider-Man, he could get hurt. And Peter could never forgive himself for it. It was better that Ned didn’t—

“What the hell is that?” Ned asked, sounding absolutely flabbergasted.

“What the hell is what?” Peter repeated, absent-mindedly throwing his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. He turned to face what Ned was talking about… and he felt his stomach practically fall through his chest. “Oh shit” was all Peter could manage. Ned was pointing to the Spider-Man suit, which had been carelessly thrown into the corner of Peter’s tiny closet, still very visible underneath the hung-up t-shirts and button ups. Peter grabbed for it and began to shove it under his jeans, which were folded underneath his shirts. “That’s—that’s nothing.”

“That’s _not_ nothing. That’s the Spider-Man suit. The one he wore at the German airport,” Ned gaped. “Wait a second, you got a Stark Internship the same time as Germany. And you went on a retreat last week the same time that Spider-Man was sighted at the Accords’ meeting.” Ned was looking back and forth from the Spider-Man suit to Peter, mouth still wide-open. Then, he gasped. “You’re the Spider-Man. _From YouTube.”_

“I’m not,” Peter said, frantically. “It’s a costume… They’re just—” Peter faltered, the lie he was trying to formulate never coming to his mind. He stopped where he was, back turned to Ned, running his thumb over the Spider-Man suit. Honestly, what _was_ the worst thing that could happen if Peter told Ned? He’s been desperately trying to find someone to talk about what he was experiencing… Yeah, Ned has loose lips but if Peter explained why it was so important to keep his identity a secret, maybe it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. And it’s not like someone knowing about a secret identity was _that_ detrimental; after all, the first thing Tony Stark did when people started to speculate that was Iron-Man was in fact confirm it at a press conference.

Okay… so maybe one more person knew about his identity? 

Peter turned back to his best friend, grinning. “Yeah… I’m Spider-Man.”

**~ THE END ~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to come... eventually :P 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this short story bringing the Avengers together!


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